
Class'IH'illl 
Book \ tl & » ! 52 



C0EXRIGKT DEPOSIT. 



/ 




From the painting by Sir John Everett Miliais in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. 

PORTIA 

Her sunny locks 

Hang on her temples like a golden fleece. 

— Act I. Scene I. 



Eije Scatiemg Classics 



SHAKESPEARE 

II 



The Merchant of Venice 



EDITED WITH A LIFE OF SHAKESPEARE, AN ACCOUNT OF 

THE THEATRE IN HIS TIME, AND NUMEROUS 

AIDS TO THE STUDY OF THE PLAY 

BY 

SAMUEL THURBER, Jr. 



NEWTON TECHNICAL HIGH SCHOOL, NEWTONVILLE 
MASSACHUSETTS 



ALLYN AND BACON 

Boston Nefo gorfe Chicago 



71? ^^ 

tot?* 



COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY 
SAMUEL THURBER, Jr. 




APR -2 1917 



Norfoooti $resss 

J. 8. Gushing Co. — Berwick & Smith Co. 

Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. 



2>CI.A457741 



FOREWORD 

In revising my father's edition of the Merchant of 
Venice, I have been influenced by the changed condition 
in high schools since the time when his work was done. 
The greater number of pupils, the consequent inadequacy 
of reference material, the more general and less special- 
ized literary preparation, and the broader aims and ideals 
of the rising generation — all these conditions demand a 
different type of annotation from that of twenty years ago. 

My own recent problems in teaching the Merchant of 
Venice with college preparatory, commercial, and technical 
classes have led me to include in the present edition the 
following eight features not found in my father's work : 
a fuller and more informational array of notes ; a study 
of the structural elements of the play ; a discussion of the 
sources and historical setting of the comedy ; glimpses of 
life in Shakespeare's time as shown by the play ; comments 
of well-known persons on the characters of the drama ; 
a list of familiar quotations from the Merchant ; an account 
of Shakespeare, the man, — his life, work, reputation, and 
the theatre for which he wrote ; and finally a list of topics 
for oral and written composition. These eight features 
will be found in the appendix following the text of the play. 

It is hoped that this additional material will not only 
increase the interest and inspiration of the student, but 
that it will also lighten the labor of the teacher. 

SAMUEL THURBER, Jr. 

iii 



CONTENTS 



List of Illustrations 
Milton's " Shakespeare 



THE MERCHANT OF VENICE 

Appendix 

The Writing and Publication of The Merchant of Venice . 
Stories which Shakespeare used in The Merchant of Venice 
Time Duration of The Merchant of Venice 
Comments upon the Characters .... 
Glimpses of Life in Shakespeare's 'Time found in The 

Merchant of Venice 

Familiar Passages in The Merchant of Venice . 

What we know about Shakespeare 

Shakespeare's Plays and Poems 

Shakespeare's Popularity in His Own Day 

Shakespeare's Fame since His Death 

The Theatre of Shakespeare's Day 

Books of Interest to Students of Shakespeare . 



Explanatory Notes 

Subjects for Oral and Written Composition 



PAGE 

vii 
viii 

1 



91 

95 

106 

111 

123 
124 
127 
140 
154 
159 
168 
190 

193 

284 



V 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 



Portia 



Shy lock and Jessica # 

The Casket Scene 

The Trial Scene 

Shakespeare's House at Stratford-on-Avon 

The Room where Shakespeare was Born . 

Anne Hathaway's Cottage at Shottery 

Interior of Anne Hathaway's Cottage 

Holy Trinity Parish Church, Stratford-on-Avon 

Inscription on Shakespeare's Tomb .... 

Inscription on Shakespeare's Monument, Trinity Church, Strat 
ford-on-Avon 

The Globe Theatre 

Interior of an Elizabethan Theatre ■> 



Frontispiece v 

FACING PAGE 

30 ' 



50 
74 
130 
130 
132 
132 
138 
138 

138 
176 
176 



Vll 



SHAKESPEARE 

What needs my Shakespeare for his honored bones 

The labor of an age in pil£d stones ? 

Or that his hallowed reliques should be hid 

Under a star-ypointing pyramid ? 

Dear son of memory, great heir of fame, 

What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name ? 

Thou in our wonder and astonishment 

Hast built thyself a live-long monument. 

For whilst to the shame of slow-endeavoring art 

Thy easy numbers flow, and that each heart 

Hath from the leaves of thy unvalued book 

Those Delphic lines with deep impression took, 

Then thou, our fancy of itself bereaving, 

Dost make us marble with too much conceiving ; 

And, so sepulchred, in such pomp dost lie 

That kings for such a tomb would wish to die. 

JOHN MILTON. 



Vlll 



THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 



The Duke of Venice. 
The Prince of Morocco, j suitors to 
The Prince of Arragon, t Portia. 
Antonio, a merchant of Venice. 
Bassanio, his friend, suitor likewise to 

Portia, 
Salanio, 
Salarino, 
Gratiano, 
Salerio, J 

Lorenzo, in love with Jessica. 
Shylock, a rich Jew. 
Tubal, a Jew, his friend. 
Launcelot Gobbo, the clown, servant 

to Shylock. 



friends to Antonio and 
Bassanio. 



servants to Portia. 



Old Gobbo, father to Launcelot. 
Leonardo, servant to Bassanio, 
Balthasar, i 
Stephano, \ 
Portia, a rich heiress. 
Nerissa, her waiting-maid. 
Jessica, daughter to Shylock. 

Magnificoes of Venice, Officers of the 
Court of Justice, Gaoler, Servants 
to Portia, and other Attendants. 

Scene: Partly at Venice, and partly 
at Belmont, the seat of Portia, on 
the Continent. 



ACT I. 



Scene I. Venice. A street. 

Enter Antonio, Salarino, and Salanio. 

Ant. In sooth, I know not why I am so sad : 
It wearies me ; you say it wearies you ; 
But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, 
What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born, 
I am to learn ; 

And such a want-wit sadness makes of me, 
That I have much ado to know myself. 

Salar. Your mind is tossing on the ocean ; 
There, where your argosies with portly sail, 



The Merchant of Venice. Act I, Scene 1. 

Like signiors and rich burghers on the flood, 10 

Or, as it were, the pageants of the sea, 

Do overpeer the petty traffickers, 

That curtsy to them, do them reverence, 

As they fly by them with their woven wings. 

Salati. Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth, 15 
The better part of my affections would 
Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still 
Plucking the grass, to know where sits the wind, 
Peering in maps for ports and piers and roads ; 
And every object that might make me fear 20 

Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt 
Would make me sad. 

Salar. My wind cooling my broth 

Would blow me to an ague, when I thought 
What harm a wind too great at sea might do. 
I should not see the sandy hour-glass run, 25 

But I should think of shallows and of flats, 
And see my wealthy Andrew docked in sand, 
Vailing her high-top lower than her ribs 
To kiss her burial. Should I go to church 
And see the holy edifice of stone, 30 

And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks, 
Which touching but my gentle vessel's side, 
Would scatter all her spices on the stream, 
Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks, 
And, in a word, but even now worth this, 35 

And now worth nothing ? Shall I have the thought 
To think on this, and shall I lack the thought 
That such a thing bechanced would make me sad ? 
But tell not me ; I know, Antonio 

Is sad to think upon his merchandise. 40 

2 



Act I, Scene i. The Merchant of Venice. 

Ant. Believe me, no : I thank my fortune for it, 
My ventures are not in one bottom trusted, 
Nor to one place ; nor is my whole estate 
Upon the fortune of this present year : 
Therefore my merchandise makes me not sad. 45 

Salar. Why, then you are in love. 

Ant. Fie, fie ! 

Salar. Not in love neither ? Then let us say you are 
sad, 
Because you are not merry : and 'twere as easy 
For you to laugh and leap and say you are merry, 
Because you are not sad. Now, by two-headed Janus, 50 
Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time : 
Some that will evermore peep through their eyes 
And laugh like parrots at a bag-piper, 
And other of such vinegar aspect 

That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile, 55 

Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable. 

Enter Bassanio, Lorenzo, and Gratiano. 

Satan. Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kins- 
man, 
Gratiano and Lorenzo. Fare ye well : 
We leave you now with better company. 

Salar. I would have stayed till I had made you 
merry, 60 

If worthier friends had not prevented me. 

Ant. Your worth is very dear in my regard. 
I take it, your own business calls on you 
And you embrace the occasion to depart. 

Salar. Good morrow, my good lords. 65 

3 



The Merchant of Venice. Act I, Scene l. 

Bass. Good signiors both, when shall we laugh ? say, 
when ? 
You grow exceeding strange : must it be so ? 

Salar. We'll make our leisures to attend on yours. 

\Exeunt Salarino and Salanio. 

Lo7\ My Lord Bassanio, since you have found 

Antonio, 
We two will leave you : but at dinner-time, 70 

I pray you, have in mind where we must meet. 

Bass. I will not fail you. 

Gra. You look not well, Signior Antonio ; 
You have too much respect upon the world : 
They lose it that do buy it with much care : 75 

Believe me, you are marvellously changed. 

Ant. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano ; 
A stage where every man must play a part, 
And mine a sad one. 

Gra. Let me play the fool : 

With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come, 80 

And let my liver rather heat with wine 
Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. 
Why should a man, whose blood is warm within, 
Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster ? 
Sleep when he wakes and creep into the jaundice 85 

By being peevish ? I tell thee what, Antonio — 
I love thee, and it is my love that speaks — 
There are a sort of men whose visages 
Do cream and mantle like a standing pond, 
And do a wilful stillness entertain, 90 

With purpose to be dressed in an opinion 
Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit, 
As who should say " I am Sir Oracle, 

4 



Act I, Scene l. The Merchant of Venice. 

And when I ope my lips let no dog bark ! " 

my Antonio, I do know of these 95 
That therefore only are reputed wise 

For saying nothing, when, I am very sure, 

If they should speak, would almost damn those ears 

Which, hearing them, would call their brothers fools. 

I'll tell thee more of this another time : 100 

But fish not, with this melancholy bait, 

For this fool gudgeon, this opinion. 

Come, good Lorenzo. Fare ye well awhile : 

I'll end my exhortation after dinner. 

Lor. Well, we will leave you then till dinner-time : 105 

1 must be one of these same dumb wise men, 
For Gratiano never lets me speak. 

Gra. Well, keep me company but two years moe, 
Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own tongue. 

Ant. Farewell: I'll grow a talker for this gear. no 

Gra. Thanks i' faith, for silence is only commendable 
In a neat's tongue dried. 

\Exeunt Gratiano and Lorenzo. 

Ant. Is that any thing now ? 

Bass. Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more 
than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as two grains 
of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff : you shall seek all 
day ere you find them, and when you have them, they are 
not worth the search. 

Ant. Well, tell me now what lady is the same 
To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage, 120 

That you to-day promised to tell me of ? 

Bass. 'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio, 
How much I have disabled mine estate, 
By something showing a more swelling port 

5 



The Merchant of Venice. , Act i, Scene 1. 

Than my faint means would grant continuance : 125 

Nor do I now make moan to be abridged 

From such a noble rate ; but my chief care 

Is to come fairly off from the great debts 

Wherein my time something too prodigal 

Hath left me gaged. To you, Antonio, 130 

I owe the most, in money and in love, 

And from your love I have a warranty 

To unburden all my plots and purposes 

How to get clear of all the debts I owe. 

Ant. I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it ; 135 
And if it stand, as you yourself still do, 
Within the eye of honor, be assured, 
My purse, my person, my extremest means, 
Lie all unlocked to your occasions. 

Bass. In my school-days, when I had lost one shaft, 140 
I shot his fellow of the self-same flight 
The self-same way with more advised watch, 
To find the other forth, and by adventuring both 
I oft found both : I urge this childhood proof, 
Because what follows is pure innocence. 145 

I owe you much/and, like a wilful youth, 
That which I owe is lost ; but if you please 
To shoot another arrow that self way 
Which you did shoot the first, I do not doubt, 
As I will watch the aim, or to find both 150 

Or bring your latter hazard back again 
And thankfully rest debtor for the first. 

Ant. You know me well, and herein spend but time 
To wind about my love with circumstance ; 
And out of doubt you do me now more wrong 155 

In making question of my uttermost 



Act I, Scene l. The Merchant of Venice. 

Than if you had made waste of all I have : 

Then do but say to me what I should do 

That in your knowledge may by me be done, 

And I am prest unto it : therefore, speak. 160 

Bass. In Belmont is a lady richly left ; 
And she is fair and, fairer than that word, 
Of wondrous virtues : sometimes from her eyes 
I did receive fair speechless messages : 
Her name is Portia, nothing undervalued 165 

To Cato's daughter, Brutus' Portia : 
Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth, 
For the four winds blow in from every coast 
Renowned suitors, and her sunny locks 
Hang on her temples like a golden fleece ; 170 

Which makes her seat_of Belmont Colchos' strand, 
And many Jasons come in quest of her. 

my Antonio, had I but the means 
To hold a rival place with one of them, 

1 have a mind presages me such thrift, 175 
That I should questionless be fortunate ! 

Ant. Thou know'st that all my fortunes are at sea ; 
Neither have I money nor commodity 
To raise a present sum : therefore go forth ; 
Try what my credit can in Venice do : 180 

That shall be racked, even to the uttermost, 
To furnish thee to Belmont, to fair Portia. 
Go, presently inquire, and so will I, 

Where money is, and I no question make 184 

To have it of my trust or for my sake. \Exeunt. 



The Merchant of Venice. Act I, Scene 2. 

Scene II. Belmont. A room in Portia's house. 

Enter Portia and Nerissa. 

Por. By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is aweary of 
this great world. 

Ner. You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries 
were in the same abundance as your good fortunes are : 
and yet, for aught I see, they are as sick that surfeit 
with too much as they that starve with nothing. It is 
no mean happiness therefore, to be seated in the mean : 
superfluity comes sooner by white hairs, but competency 
lives longer. 

Por. Good sentences and well pronounced. 10 

Ner. They would be better, if well followed. 

Por. If to do were as easy as to know what were good 
to do, chapels had been churches and poor men's cottages 
princes' palaces. It is a good divine that follows his own 
instructions : I can easier teach twenty what were good 
to be done, than be one of the twenty to follow mine own 
teaching. The brain may devise laws for the blood, but 
a hot temper leaps o'er a cold decree : such a hare is 
madness the youth, to skip o'er the meshes of good coun- 
sel the cripple. But this reasoning is not in the fashion 
to choose me a husband. O me, the word " choose ! " I 
may neither choose whom I would nor refuse whom I 
dislike ; so is the will of a living daughter curbed by the 
will of a dead father. Is it not hard, Nerissa, that I can- 
not choose one nor refuse none ? 25 

Ner. Your father was ever virtuous ; and holy men 
at their death have good inspirations : therefore the lot- 
tery, that he hath devised in these three chests of gold, 

8 



Act I, Scene 2. The Merchant of Venice. 

silver and lead, whereof who chooses his meaning chooses 
you, will, no doubt, never be chosen by any rightly but 
one who shall rightly love. But what warmth is there in 
your affection towards any of these princely suitors that 
are already come ? 33 

Por. I pray thee, over-name them ; and as thou namest 
them, I will describe them ; and, according to my descrip- 
tion, level at my affection. 

Ner. First, there is the Neapolitan prince. 

Por. Ay, that's a colt indeed, for he doth nothing 
but talk of his horse: and he makes it a great appro- 
priation to his own good parts, that he can shoe him 
himself. 4 1 

Ner. Then there is the County Palatine. 

Por. He doth nothing but frown, as who should say, 
" If you will not have me, choose : " he hears merry tales 
and smiles not : I fear he will prove the weeping philoso- 
pher when he grows old, being so full of unmannerly sad- 
ness in his youth. I had rather be married to a death's- 
head with a bone in his mouth than to either of these. 
God defend me from these two ! 49 

Ner. How say you by the French lord, Monsieur Le 
Bon? 

Por. God made him, and therefore let him pass for a 
man. In truth, I know it is a sin to be a mocker : but 
he ! why, he hath a horse better than the Neapolitan's, a 
better bad habit of frowning than the Count Palatine ; he 
is every man in no man; if a throstle sing, he falls 
straight a capering : he will fence with his own shadow : 
if I should marry him, I should marry twenty husbands. 
If he would despise me, I would forgive him, for if he 
love me to madness, I shall never requite him. 6o 

9 



The Merchant of Venice. Act I, Scene 2. 

Ner. What say you, then, to Falconbridge, the young 
baron of England ? 

Por. You know I say nothing to him, for he under- 
stands not me, nor I him : he hath neither Latin, French, 
nor Italian, and you will come into the court and swear 
that I have a poor pennyworth in the English. He is a 
proper man's picture, but, alas, who can converse with 
a dumb-show ? How oddly he is suited ! I think he 
bought his doublet in Italy, his round hose in France, his 
bonnet in Germany and his behavior everywhere. 70 

Ner. What think you of the Scottish lord, his neigh- 
bor ? 

Por. That he hath a neighborly charity in him, for he 
borrowed a box of the ear of the Englishman and swore 
be would pay him again when he was able : I think the 
Frenchman became his surety and sealed under for an- 
other. 

Ner. How like you the young German, the Duke of 
Saxony's nephew ? 79 

Por. Very vilely in the morning, when he is sober, 
and most vilely in the afternoon, when he is drunk : when 
he is best, he is a little worse than a man, and when he is 
worst, he is little better than a beast : an the worst fall 
that ever fell, I hope I shall make shift to go without him. 

Ner. If he should offer to choose, and choose the right 
casket, you should refuse ta perform your father's will, if 
you should refuse to accept him. 87 

Por. Therefore, for fear of the worst, I pray thee set 
a deep glass of rhenish wine on the contrary casket, for if 
the devil be within and that temptation without, I know 
he will choose it. I will do any thing, Nerissa, ere I'll be 
married to a sponge. 92 

* IO 



Act I, Scene 2. The Merchant of Venice. 

Ner. You need not fear, lady, the having any of these 
lords : they have acquainted me with their determina- 
tions ; which is, indeed, to return to their home and to 
trouble you with no more suit, unless you may be won by 
some other sort than your father's imposition depending 
on the caskets. 9 8 

Por. If I live to be as old as Sibylla, I will die as 
chaste as Diana, unless I be obtained by the manner of 
my father's will. I am glad this parcel of wooers are so 
reasonable, for there is not one among them but I dote 
on his very absence, and I pray God grant them a fair 
departure. 104 

Ner. Do you not remember, lady, in your father's time, 
a Venetian, a scholar, and a soldier, that came hither in 
company of the Marquis of Montferrat ? 

Por. Yes, yes, it was Bassanio ; as I think, he was so 
called. 109 

Ner. True, madam : he, of all the men that ever my 
foolish eyes looked upon, was the best deserving a fair 
lady. 

Por. I remember him well, and I remember him 
worthy of thy praise. n 4 

Enter a Serving-man. 

How now ! what news ? 

Serv. The four strangers seek for you, madam, to 
take their leave : and there is a forerunner come from a 
fifth, the Prince of Morocco, who brings word the prince 
his master will be here to-night. u 9 

Por. If I could bid the fifth welcome with so good a 
heart as I can bid the other four farewell, I should be glad 
of his approach : if he have the condition of a saint and 

II 



The Merchant of Venice. Act I, Scene 3. 



the complexion of a devil, I had rather he should shrive 
me than wive me. 

Come, Nerissa. Sirrah, go before. 125 

Whiles we shut the gates upon one wooer, another knocks 

at the door. [Exeunt 

Scene III. Venice. A public place. 
Enter Bassanio and Shylock. 

Shy. Three thousand ducats ; well. 

Bass. Ay, sir, for three months. 

Shy. For three months ; well. 

Bass. For the which, as I told you, Antonio shall be 
bound. 5 

Shy. Antonio shall become bound ; well. 

Bass. May you stead me ? will you pleasure me ? 
shall I know your answer ? 

Shy. Three thousand ducats for three months and 
Antonio bound. 10 

Bass. Your answer to that. 

Shy. Antonio is a good man. 

Bass. Have you heard any imputation to the con- 
trary ? 14 

Shy. Oh, no, no, no, no: my meaning in saying he is 
a good man is to have you understand me that he is suffi- 
cient. Yet his means are in supposition : he hath an 
argosy bound to Tripolis, another to the Indies ; I under- 
stand, moreover, upon the Rialto, he hath a third at 
Mexico, a fourth for England, and other ventures he hath, 
squandered abroad. But ships are but boards, sailors 
but men : there be land-rats and water-rats, water- thieves 
and land-thieves, I mean pirates, and then there is the 

12 



Act I, Scene 3. The Merchant of Venice. 

peril of waters, winds and rocks. The man is, notwith- 
standing, sufficient. Three thousand ducats ; I think I 
may take his bond. 26 

Bass. Be assured you may. 

Shy. I will be assured I may ; and, that I" may be as- 
sured, I will bethink me. May I speak with Antonio ? 

Bass. If it please you to dine with us. 30 

Shy. Yes, to smell pork ; to eat of the habitation 
which your prophet the Nazarite conjured the devil into. 
I will buy with you, sell with you, talk with you, walk 
with you, and so following, but I will not eat with you, 
drink with you, nor pray with you. What news on the 
Rialto ? Who is he comes here ? 36 

Enter Antonio. 

Bass. This is Signior Antonio. 

Shy. [Aside] How like a fawning publican he looks ! 
I hate him for he is a Christian, 

But more for that in low simplicity 40 

He lends out money gratis and brings down 
The rate of usance here with us in Venice. 
If I can catch him once upon the hip, 
I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. 
He hates our sacred nation, and he rails, 45 

Even there where merchants most do congregate, 
On me, my bargains and my well-won thrift, 
Which he calls interest. Cursed be my tribe, 
If I forgive him ! 

Bass. Shylock, do you hear ? 

Shy. I am debating of my present store, 50 

And, by the near guess of my memory, 
I cannot instantly raise up the gross 

J 3 



The Merchant of Venice. Act I, Scene 3. 

Of full three thousand ducats. What of that ? 

Tubal, a wealthy Hebrew of my tribe, 

Will furnish me. But soft ! how many months 55 

Do you desire ? [To Ant.] Rest you fair, good signior ; 

Your worship was the last man in our mouths. 

Ant. Shylock, although I neither lend nor borrow 
By taking nor by giving of excess, 

Yet, to supply the ripe wants of my friend, 60 

I'll break a custom. Is he yet possessed 
How much ye would ? 

Shy. Ay, ay, three thousand ducats. 

Ant. And for three months. 

Shy. I had forgot ; three months ; you told me so. 
Well then, your bond ; and let me see ; but hear you; 65 
Methought you said you neither lend nor borrow 
Upon advantage. 

Ant. I do never use it. 

Shy. When Jacob grazed his uncle Laban's sheep — 
This Jacob from our holy Abram was, 
As his wise mother wrought in his behalf, 70 

The third possessor ; ay, he was the third — 

Ant. And what of him? did he take interest? 

Shy. No, not take interest, not, as you would say, 
Directly interest : mark what Jacob did 
When Laban and himself were compromised 75 

That all the eanlings which were streaked and pied 
Should fall as Jacob's hire. 
This was a way to thrive, and he was blest : 
And thrift is blessing, if men steal it not. 

Ant. This was a venture, sir, that Jacob served for ; 80 
A thing not in his power to bring to pass, 
But swayed and fashioned by the hand of heaven. 



Act I, Scene 3. The Merchant of Venice. 

Was this inserted to make interest good ? 
Or is your gold and silver ewes and rams ? 

Shy. I cannot tell ; I make it breed as fast : 85 

But note me, signior. 

Ant. Mark you this, Bassanio, 

The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose. 
An evil soul producing holy witness 
Is like a villain with a smiling cheek, 

A goodly apple rotten at the heart : 90 

O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath ! 

Shy. Three thousand ducats ; 'tis a good round sum. 
Three months from twelve ; then, let me see ; the rate — 

Ant. Well, Shylock, shall we be beholding to you ? 

Shy. Signior Antonio, many a time and oft 95 

In the Rialto you have rated me 
About my moneys and my usances : 
Still have I borne it with a patient shrug, 
For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe. 
You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog, 100 

And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine, 
And all for use of that which is mine own. 
Well then, it now appears you need my help : 
Go to, then ; you come to me, and you say, 
" Shylock, we would have moneys : " you say so ; 105 

You, that did void your rheum upon my beard 
And foot me as you spurn a stranger cur 
Over your threshold : moneys is your suit. 
What should I say to you ? Should I not say, 
" Hath a dog money ? is it possible no 

A cur can lend three thousand ducats ? " Or 
Shall I bend low and in a bondman's key, 
With bated breath and whispering humbleness, 

15 



The Merchant of Venice. Act I, Scene 3. 

Say this ; 

" Fair sir, you spit on me on Wednesday last ; 115 

You spurned me such a day ; another time 

You called me dog ; and for these courtesies 

I'll lend you thus much moneys ? " 

Ant. I am as like to call thee so again, 
To spit on thee again, to spurn thee too. 120 

If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not 
As to thy friends ; for when did friendship take 
A breed for barren metal of his friend ? 
But lend it rather to thine enemy, 

Who, if he break, thou mayst with better face 125 

Exact the penalty. 

Shy. Why, look you, how you storm 1 

I would be friends with you and have your love, 
Forget the shames that you have stained me with, 
Supply your present wants and take no doit 
Of usance for my moneys, and you'll not hear me : 130 

This is kind I offer. 

Bass. This were kindness. 

Shy. This kindness will I show. 

Go with me to a notary, seal me there 
Your single bond ; and, in a merry sport, 
If you repay me not on such a day, 135 

In such a place, such sum or sums as are 
Expressed in the condition, let the forfeit 
Be nominated for an equal pound 
Of vour fair flesh, to be cut off and taken 
In what part of your body pleaseth me. 140 

Ant. Content, i' faith : I'll seal to such a bond 
And say there is much kindness in the Jew. 

16 



Act i, Scene 3- The Merchant of Venice. 

Bass. You shall not seal to such a bond for me : 
I'll rather dwell in my necessity. 

Ant. Why, fear not, man ; I will not forfeit it : 145 

Within these two months, that's a month before 
This bond expires, I do expect return 
Of thrice three times the value of this bond. 

Shy. O father Abram, what these Christians are, 
Whose own hard dealings teaches them suspect 150 

The thoughts of others ! Pray you, tell me this ; 
If he should break his day, what should I gain 
By the exaction of the forfeiture ? 
A pound of man's flesh taken from a man 
Is not so estimable, profitable neither, 155 

As flesh of muttons, beefs, or goats. I say, 
To buy his favor, I extend this friendship : 
If he will take it, so ; if not, adieu ; 
And, for my love, I pray you wrong me not. 

Ant. Yes, Shy lock, I will seal unto this bond. 160 

Shy. Then meet me forthwith at the notary's ; 
Give him direction for this merry bond, 
And I will go and purse the ducats straight, 
See to my house, left in the fearful guard 
Of an unthrifty knave, and presently 165 

I will be with you. 

Ant. Hie thee, gentle Jew. [Exit Shylock. 

The Hebrew will turn Christian : he grows kind. 

Bass. I like not fair terms and a villain's mind. 

Ant. Come on : in this there can be no dismay ; 170 
My ships come home a month before the day. 

[Exeunt. 



17 



The Merchant of Venice. Act n, Scene l. 



ACT II. 

Scene I. Belmont A room in Portia's house. 

Flourish of co?mets. Enter the Prince of Morocco and 
his train; Portia, Nerissa, and others attending. 

Mor. Mislike me not for my complexion, 
The shadowed livery of the burnished sun, 
To whom I am a neighbor and near bred. 
Bring me the fairest creature northward born, 
Where Phoebus' fire scarce thaws the icicles, 5 

And let us make incision for your love, 
To prove whose blood is reddest, his or mine. 
I tell thee, lady, this aspect of mine 
Hath feared the valiant : by my love, I swear 
The best-regarded virgins of our clime 10 

Have loved it too : I would not change this hue, 
Except to steal your thoughts, my gentle queen. 

Por. In terms of choice I am not solely led 
By nice direction of a maiden's eyes ; 

Besides, the lottery of my destiny 15 

Bars me the right of voluntary choosing : 
But if my father had not scanted me 
And hedged me by his wit, to yield myself 
His wife who wins me by that means I told you, 
Yourself, renowned prince, then stood as fair 20 

As any comer I have looked on yet 
For my affection. 

Mor. Even for that I thank you : 

Therefore, I pray you, lead me to the caskets 
To try my fortune. By this scimitar 

That slew the Sophy and a Persian prince 25 

18 



Act ii, Scene l. The Merchant of Venice. 

That won three fields of Sultan Solyman, 

I would outstare the sternest eyes that look, 

Outbrave the heart most daring on the earth, 

Pluck the young sucking cubs from the she-bear, 

Yea, mock the lion when he roars for prey, 30 

To win thee, lady. But, alas the while ! 

If Hercules and Lichas play at dice 

Which is the better man, the greater throw 

May turn by fortune from the weaker hand : 

So is Alcides beaten by his page ; 35 

And so may I, blind fortune leading me, 

Miss that which one unworthier may attain, 

And die with grieving. 1 / 

For. ^You must take your chance, 

And either not attempt to chose at all, 
Or swear before you choose, if you choose wrong, 40 

Never to speak to lady afterward 
In way of marriage : therefore be advised. 

Mor. Nor will not. Come, bring me unto my chance. 

For. First, forward to the temple : after dinner 
Your hazard shall be made. 

Mor. Good fortune then ! 45 

To make me blest or cursed'st among men. 

[ Cornets, and exeunt. 

Scene II. Venice. A street. 
Enter Launcelot. 

Laun. Certainly my conscience will serve me to run 
from this Jew my master. The fiend is at mine elbow 
and tempts me, saying to me " Gobbo, Launcelot Gobbo, 
good Launcelot," or "good Gobbo," or "good Launcelot 
Gobbo, use your legs, take the start, run away." My 

x 9 



The Merchant of Venice. Act n, Scene 2. 

conscience says, " No ; take heed, honest Launcelot ; take 
heed, honest Gobbo," or, as aforesaid, "honest Launcelot 
Gobbo ; do not run ; scorn running with thy heels." Well, 
the most courageous fiend bids me pack : " Via ! " says the 
fiend ; " away ! " says the fiend ; " for the heavens, rouse 
up a brave mind," says the fiend, "and run." Well, my 
conscience, hanging about the neck of my heart, says very 
wisely to me, " My honest friend Launcelot, being an 
honest man's son," or rather an honest woman's son ; for, 
indeed, my father did something smack, something grow 
to, he had a kind of taste ; well, my conscience says, 
"Launcelot, budge not." "Budge," says the fiend. 
" Budge not," says my conscience. " Conscience," say I, 
"you counsel well;" "Fiend," say I, "you counsel 
well : " to be ruled by my conscience, I should stay with 
the Jew my master, who, God bless the mark, is a kind 
of devil ; and, to run away from the Jew, I should be 
ruled by the fiend, who, saving your reverence, is the 
devil himself. Certainly the Jew is the very devil in- 
carnal ; and, in my conscience, my conscience is but a 
kind of hard conscience, to offer to counsel me to stay 
with the Jew. The fiend gives the more friendly counsel : 
I will run, fiend ; my heels are at your command ; I will 
run. 29 

Enter Old Gobbo, with a basket 

Gob. Master young man, you, I pray you, which is the 
way to Master Jew's ? 

Laun. \_Aside~] O heavens, this is my true-begotten 
father ! who, being more than sand-blind, high-gravel 
blind, knows me not : I will try confusions with him. 

Gob. Master young gentleman, I pray you, which is 
the way to Master Jew's ? 3 6 

20 



Act ii, Scene 2. The Merchant of Venice. 

Laun. Turn up on your right hand at the next turn- 
ing, but, at the next turning of all, on your left ; marry, 
at the very next turning, turn of no hand, but turn down 
indirectly to the Jew's house. 40 

Gob. By God's sonties, 'twill be a hard way to hit. 
Can you tell me whether one Launcelot, that dwells with 
him, dwell with him or no? 

Laun. Talk you of young Master Launcelot ? [Aside] 
Mark me now; now I will raise the waters. Talk you of 
young Master Launcelot ? 46 

Gob. No master, sir, but a poor man's son : his father, 
though I say it, is an honest exceeding poor man and, God 
be thanked, well to live. 

Laun. Well, let his father be what a' will, we talk of 
young Master Launcelot. 51 

Gob. Your worship's friend and Launcelot, sir. 

Laun. But I pray you, ergo, old man, ergo, I beseech 
you, talk you of young Master Launcelot ? 

Gob. Of Launcelot, an't please your mastership. 55 

Laun. Ergo, Master Launcelot. Talk not of Master 
Launcelot, father ; for the young gentleman, according to 
Fates and Destinies and such odd sayings, the Sisters 
Three and such branches of learning, is indeed deceased, 
or, as you would say in plain terms, gone to heaven. 60 

Gob. Marry, God forbid ! the boy was the very staff 
of my age, my very prop. 

Laun. Do I look like a cudgel or a hovel-post, a staff 
or a prop ? Do you know me, father ? 

Gob. Alack the day, I know you not, young gentle- 
man : but, I pray you, tell me, is my boy, God rest his 
soul, alive or dead ? 

Laun. Do you not know me, father ? 68 

21 



The Merchant of Venice. Act n, Scene 2. 

Gob. Alack, sir, I am sand-blind ; I know you not. 

Laun. Nay, indeed, if you had your eyes, you might 
fail of the knowing me : it is a wise father that knows his 
own child. Well, old man, I will tell you news of your 
son : give me your blessing : truth will come to light ; 
murder cannot be hid long ; a man's son may, but at the 
length truth will out. 75 

Gob. Pray you, sir, stand up : I am sure you are not 
Launcelot, my boy. 

Laun. Pray you, let's have no more fooling about it, 
but give me your blessing : I am Launcelot, your boy that 
was, your son that is, your child that shall be. 80 

Gob. I cannot think you are my son. 

Laun. I know not what I shall think of that : but I 
am Launcelot, the Jew's man, and I am sure Margery 
your wife is my mother. 

Gob. Her name is Margery, indeed : I'll be sworn, if 
thou be Launcelot, thou art mine own flesh and blood. 
Lord worshipped might he be I what a beard hast thou 
got ! thou hast got more hair on thy chin than Dobbin my 
fill-horse has on his tail. 89 

Laun. It should seem, then, that Dobbin's tail grows 
backward : I am sure he had more hair of his tail than I 
have of my face when I last saw him. 

Gob. Lord, how art thou changed ! How dost thou 
and thy master agree ? I have brought him a present. 
How 'gree you now ? 95 

Laun. Well, well : but, for mine own part, as I have 
set up my rest to run away, so I will not rest till I have 
run some ground. My master's a very Jew : give him a 
present ! give him a halter : I am famished in his service ; 
you may tell every finger I have with my ribs. Father, 

22 



Act ii, Scene 2. The Merchant of Venice. 

I am glad you are come : give me your present to one 
Master Bassanio, who, indeed, gives rare new liveries : if 
I serve not him, I will run as far as God has any ground. 

rare fortune ! here comes the man : to him, father ; for 

1 am a Jew, if I serve the Jew any longer. 105 

Enter Bassanio, with Leonardo and other followers. 

Bass. You may do so ; but let it be so hasted that 
supper be ready at the farthest by five of the clock. See 
these letters delivered ; put the liveries to making, and 
desire Gratiano to come anon to my lodging. 109 

\_Exit a Servant. 

Laun. To him, father. 

Gob. God bless your worship ! 

Bass. Gramercy ! wouldst thou aught with me ? 

Gob. Here's my son, sir, a poor boy, — 

Laun. Not a poor boy, sir, but the rich Jew's man ; 
that would, sir, as my father shall specify — 115 

Gob. He hath a great infection, sir, as one would say, 
to serve, — 

Laun. Indeed, the short and the long is, I serve the 
Jew, and have a desire, as my father shall specify — 

Gob. His master and he, saving your worship's rev- 
erence, are scarce cater-cousins — 121 

Laun. To be brief, the very truth is that the Jew, 
having done me wrong, doth cause me, as my father, 
being, I hope, an old man, shall frutify unto you — 

Gob. I have here a dish of doves that I would bestow 
upon your worship, and my suit is — 126 

Laun. In very brief, the suit is impertinent to my- 
self, as your worship shall know by this honest old man ; 

2 3 



The Merchant of Venice. Act II, Scene 2. 

and, though I say it, though old man, yet poor man, my 
father. 

Bass. One speak for both. What would you? 

Latin. Serve you, sir. 132 

Gob. That is the very defect of the matter, sir. 

Bass. I know thee well ; thou hast obtained thy suit : 
Shylock thy master spoke with me this day, 
And hath preferred thee, if it be preferment 136 

To leave a rich Jew's service, to become 
The follower of so poor a gentleman. 

Latin. The old proverb is very well parted between 
my master Shylock and you, sir : you have the grace of 
God, sir, and he hath enough. 141 

Bass. Thou speak'st it well. Go, father, with thy son. 
Take leave of thy old master and inquire 
My lodging out. Give him a livery 
More guarded than his fellows' : see it done. 145 

Latin. Father, in. I cannot get a service, no ; I have 
ne'er a tongue in my head. Well, if any man in Italy 
have a fairer table which doth offer to swear upon a 
book, I shall have good fortune. Go to, here's a simple 
line of life : here's a small trifle of wives : alas, fifteen 
wives is nothing ! eleven widows and nine maids is a 
simple coming-in for one man : and then to 'scape drown- 
ing thrice, and to be in peril of my life with the edge 
of a feather-bed ; here are simple scapes. Well, if For- 
tune be a woman, she's a good wench for this gear. 
Father, come ; I'll take my leave of the Jew in the 
twinkling of an eye. 157 

\_Exennt Launcelot and Old Gobbo. 
Bass. I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this : 
These things being bought and orderly bestowed, 

24 



Act ii, Scene 2. The Merchant of Venice. 

Return in haste, for I do feast to-night 160 

My best-esteemed acquaintance : hie thee, go. 
Leon. My best endeavors shall be done herein. 

Enter Gratiano. 

Gra. Where is your master ? 

Leon. Yonder, sir, he walks. [Exit. 

Gra. Signior Bassanio ! 

Bass. Gratiano ! 165 

Gra. I have a suit to you. 

Bass. You have obtained it. 

Gra. You must not deny me : I must go with you to 
Belmont. 

Bass. Why, then you must. But hear thee, Gratiano ; 
Thou art too wild, too rude and bold of voice ; 170 

Parts that become thee happily enough 
And in such eyes as ours appear not faults ; 
But where thou art not known, why, there they show 
Something too liberal. Pray thee, take pain 
To allay with some cold drops of modesty 175 

Thy skipping spirit, lest through thy wild behavior 
I be misc6nstrued in the place I go to 
And lose my hopes. 

Gra. Signior Bassanio, hear me : 

If I do not put on a sober habit, 

Talk with respect and swear but now and then, 180 

Wear prayer-books in my pocket, look demurely, 
Nay more, while grace is saying, hood mine eyes 
Thus with my hat, and sigh and say " amen," 
Use all the observance of civility, 

Like one well studied in a sad ostent 185 

To please his grandam, never trust me more. 

2 5 



The Merchant of Venice. Act n, Scene 3. 

Bass. Well, we shall see your bearing. 

Gra. Nay, but I bar to-night : you shall not gauge me 
By what we do to-night. 

Bass. No, that were pity : 

I would entreat you rather to put on 190 

Your boldest suit of mirth, for we have friends 
That purpose merriment But fare you well : 
I have some business. 

Gra. And I must to Lorenzo and the rest : 
But we will visit you at supper-time. [Exeunt. 



Scene III. The same. A room in Shylock's house. 
Enter Jessica and Launcelot. 

Jes. I am sorry thou wilt leave my father so : 
Our house is hell, and thou, a merry devil, 
Didst rob it of some taste of tediousness. 
But fare thee well, there is a ducat for thee : 
And, Launcelot, soon at supper thou shalt see 5 

Lorenzo, who is thy new master's guest : 
Give him this letter ; do it secretly ; 
And so farewell : I would not have my father 
See me in talk with thee. 9 

Laun. Adieu ! tears exhibit my tongue. Most beauti- 
ful pagan, most sweet Jew ! But, adieu : these foolish 
drops do something drown my manly spirit : adieu. 

Jes. Farewell, good Launcelot. [Exit Launcelot. 

Alack, what heinous sin is it in me 

To be ashamed to be my father's child ! 15 

But though I am a daughter to his blood, 
I am not to his manners. O Lorenzo, 

26 



Act II, Scene 4. The Merchant of Venice. 

If thou keep promise, I shall end this strife, 

Become a Christian and thy loving wife. [Exit 

Scene IV. The same. A street. 
Enter Gratiano, Lorenzo, Salarino, and Salanio. 

Lor. Nay, we will slink away in supper-time, 
Disguise us at my lodging and return, 
All in an hour. 

Gra. We have not made good preparation. 

Salar. We have not spoke us yet of torch-bearers. 5 

Salan. 'Tis vile, unless it may be quaintly ordered, 
And better in my mind not undertook. 

Lor. 'Tis now but four o'clock : we have two hours 
To furnish us. 

Enter Launcelot, with a letter. 

Friend Launcelot, what's the news ? 

Latm. An it shall please you to break up this, it shall 
seem to signify. n 

Lor. I know the hand : in faith, 'tis a fair hand ; 
And whiter than the paper it writ on 
Is the fair hand that writ. 

Gra. Love -news, in faith. 

Laun. By your leave, sir. 15 

Lor. Whither goest thou ? 

Laun. Marry, sir, to bid my old master the Jew to 
sup to-night with my new master the Christian. 

Lor. Hold here, take this : tell gentle Jessica 
I will not fail her ; speak it privately. 20 

Go, gentlemen, [Exit Launcelot. 

Will you prepare you for this masque to-night ? 
I am provided of a torch-bearer. 

27 



The Merchant of Venice. Act n, Scene 5 

Salar. Ay, marry, I'll be gone about it straight. 

Salan. And so will I. 

Lor. Meet me and Gratiano 25 

At Gratiano's lodging some hour hence. 

Salar. 'Tis good we do so. 

\_Exeunt Salarino and Salanio. 

Gra. Was not that letter from fair Jessica ? 

Lor. I must needs tell thee all. She hath directed 
How I shall take her from her father's house, 30 

What gold and jewels she is furnished with, 
What page's suit she hath in readiness. 
If e'er the Jew her father come to heaven, 
It will be for his gentle daughter's sake : 
And never dare misfortune cross her foot, 35 

Unless she do it under this excuse, 
That she is issue to a faithless Jew. 
Come, go with me ; peruse this as thou goest : 
Fair Jessica shall be my torch-bearer. \_Exeunt. 

Scene V. The same. Before Shylock's house. 
Enter Shylock and Launcelot. 

Shy. Well, thou shalt see, thy eyes shall be thy judge, 
The difference of old Shylock and Bassanio : — 
What, Jessica ! — thou shalt not gormandize, 
As thou hast done with me : — What, Jessica ! — 
And sleep and snore, and rend apparel out ; — 5 

Why, Jessica, I say ! 

Laun. Why, Jessica ! 

Shy. Who bids thee call ? I do not bid* thee call. 

Laun. Your worship was wont to tell me that I could 
do nothing without bidding. 

28 



Act II, Scene 5. The Merchant of Venice. 

Enter Jessica. 

Jes. Call you ? what is your will ? 10 

Shy. I am bid forth to supper, Jessica : 
There are my keys. But wherefore should I go ? 
I am not bid for love ; they flatter me : 
But yet I'll go in hate, to feed upon 

The prodigal Christian. Jessica, my girl, 15 

Look to my house. I am right loath to go : 
There is some ill a-brewing towards my rest, 
For I did dream of money-bags to-night. 

Laun. I beseech you, sir, go : my young master doth 
expect your reproach. 20 

Shy. So do I his. 

Ldun. An they have conspired together, I will not 
say you shall see a masque ; but if you do, then it was not 
for nothing that my nose fell a-bleeding on Black-Monday 
last at six o'clock i' the morning, falling out that year on 
Ash- Wednesday was four year, in the afternoon. 26 

Shy. What, are there masques ? Hear you me, 
Jessica : 
Lock up my doors ; and when you hear the drum 
And the vile squealing of the wry-necked fife, 
Clamber not you up to the casements then, 30 

Nor thrust your head into the public street 
To gaze on Christian fools with varnished faces, 
But stop my house's ears, I mean my casements 
Let not the sound of shallow foppery enter 
My sober house. By Jacob's staff, I swear, 35 

I have no mind of feasting forth to-night : 
But I will go. Go you before me, sirrah ; 
Say I will come. 

29 



The Merchant of Venice. Act II, Scene 6. 

Zaun. I will go before, sir. Mistress, look out at 

window, for all this ; 40 

There will come a Christian by, 

Will be worth a Jewess' eye. \_Exit. 

Shy. What says that fool of Hagar's offspring, ha ? 

Jes. His words were, " Farewell mistress;" nothing 

else. 
Shy. The patch is kind enough but a huge feeder ; 45 
Snail-slow in profit, and he sleeps by day 
More than the wild-cat : drones hive not with me ; 
Therefore I part with him, and part with him 
To one that I would have him help to waste 
His borrowed purse. Well, Jessica, go in : 50 

Perhaps I will return immediately : 
Do as I bid you ; shut doors after you : 
Fast bind, fast find ; 
A proverb never stale in thrifty mind. [Exit. 

Jes. Farewell ; and if my fortune be not crost, 55 

I have a father, you a daughter, lost. [Exit. 

Scene VI. The same. 
Enter Gratiano and Salarino, masqued. 

Gra. This is the pent-house under which Lorenzo 
Desired us to make stand. 

Salar. His hour is almost past. 

Gra. And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour, 
For lovers ever run before the clock. 

Salar. O, ten times faster Venus' pigeons fly- 5 

To seal love's bonds new-made, than they are wont 
To keep obliged faith unforfeited ! 

Gra. That ever holds : who riseth from a feast 

3° 




From the painting by Sir J . D. Linton. 

Shylock and Jessica 

Jessica, my girl, 
Look to my house. I am right loath to go : 
There is some ill a-brewing towards my rest. 

— Act II. 



Scene 5. 



Act ii, Scene 6. The Merchant of Venice. 

With that keen appetite that he sits down ? 

Where is the horse that doth untread again 10 

His tedious measures with the unbated fire 

That he did pace them first? All things that are, 

Are with more spirit chased than enjoyed. 

How like a younker or a prodigal 

The scarfed bark puts from her native bay, 15 

Hugged and embraced by the wanton wind ! 

How like the prodigal doth she return, 

With over-weathered ribs and ragged sails, 

Lean, rent and beggared by the wanton wind ! 

Salar. Here comes Lorenzo : more of this hereafter. 20 

Enter Lorenzo. 

Lor. Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode ; 
Not I, but my affairs, have made you wait : 
When you shall please to play the thieves for wives, 
I'll watch as long for you then. Approach ; 
Here dwells my father Jew. Ho ! who's within ? 25 

Enter Jessica, above, in boy's clothes. 

Jes. Who are you ? Tell me, for more certainty, 
Albeit I'll swear that I do know your tongue. 

Lor. Lorenzo, and thy love. 

Jes. Lorenzo, certain, and my love indeed, 
For who love I so much ? And now who knows 30 

But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours ? 

Lor. Heaven and thy thoughts are witness that thou 
art. 

Jes. Here, catch this casket ; it is worth the pains. 
I am glad 'tis night, you do not look on me, 
For I am much ashamed of my exchange : 35 

- 31 



The Merchant of Venice. Act n, Scene 6. 

But love is blind and lovers cannot see 
The pretty follies that themselves commit ; 
For if they could, Cupid himself would blush 
To see me thus transformed to a boy. 

Lor. Descend, for you must be my torch-bearer. 40 

Jes. What, must I hold a candle to my shames ? 
They in themselves, good sooth, are too too light. 
Why, 'tis an office of discovery, love ; 
And I should be obscured. 

Lor. So are you, sweet, 

Even in the lovely garnish of a boy. 45 

But come at once ; 

For the close night doth play the runaway, 
And we are stayed for at Bassanio's feast. 

Jes. I will make fast the doors, and gild myself 
With some more ducats, and be with you straight. 50 

\Exit above. 

G7'a. Now, by my hood, a Gentile and no Jew. 

Lor. Beshrew me but I love her heartily ; 
For she is wise, if I can judge of her, 
And fair she is, if that mine eyes be true, 
And true she is, as she hath proved herself, 55 

And therefore, like herself, wise, fair and true, 
Shall be placed in my constant soul. 

Enter Jessica, below. 

What, art thou come ? On, gentlemen ; away ! 
Our masquing mates by this time for us stay. 

\Exit with Jessica and Salarino. 



32 



Act II, Scene 7. The Merchant of Venice. 

Enter Antonio. 

Ant. Who's there ? 60 

Gra. Signior Antonio ! 

Ant. Fie, fie, Gratiano ! where are all the rest ? 
'Tis nine o'clock : our friends all stay for you. 
No masque to-night : the wind is come about ; 
Bassanio presently will go aboard : 65 

I have sent twenty out to seek for you. 

Gra. I am glad on't : I desire no more delight 
Than to be under sail and gone to-night. {Exeunt. 

Scene VII. Belmont. A room in Portia's house. 

Flourish of cornets. Enter Portia, with the Prince 

of Morocco, and their trains. 

Por. Go draw aside the curtains and discover 
The several caskets to this noble prince. 
Now make your choice. 

Mor. The first, of gold, who this inscription bears, 
" Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire ; " 5 
The second, silver, which this promise carries, 
" Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves ; " 
This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt, 
""Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath." 
How shall I know if I do choose the right ? 10 

Por. The one of them contains my picture, prince : 
If you choose that, then I am yours withal. 

Mor. Some god direct my judgement ! Let me see ; 
I will survey the inscriptions back again. 
What says this leaden casket ? 15 

" Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath." 
Must give : for what ? for lead ? hazard for lead ? 
This casket threatens. Men that hazard all 

33 



The Merchant of Venice. Act n, Scene 7. 

Do it in hope of fair advantages : 

A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross ; 20 

I'll then nor give nor hazard aught for lead. 

What says the silver with her virgin hue ? 

" Who choosethrme shall get as much as he deserves." 

As much as he deserves ! Pause there, Morocco, 

And weigh thy value with an even hand : 25 

If thou be'st rated by thy estimation, 

Thou dost deserve enough ; and yet enough 

May not extend so far as to the lady : 

And yet to be afeard of my deserving 

Were but a weak disabling of myself. 30 

As much as I deserve ! Why, that's the lady : 

I do in birth deserve her, and in fortunes, 

In graces and in qualities of breeding ; 

But more than these, in love I do deserve. 

What if I strayed no further, but chose here ? 35 

Let's see once more this saying graved in gold ; 

" Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire." 

Why, that's the lady ; all the world desires her ; 

From the four corners of the earth they come, 

To kiss this shrine, this mortal-breathing saint : 40 

The Hyrcanian deserts and the vasty wilds 

Of wide Arabia are as throughfares now 

For princes to come view fair Portia : 

The watery kingdom, whose ambitious head 

Spits in the face of heaven, is no bar 45 

To stop the foreign spirits, but they come, 

As o'er a brook, to see fair Portia. 

One of these three contains her heavenly picture. 

Is't like that lead contains her? 'Twere damnation 

To think so base a thought: it were too gross 50 

34 



Act II, Scene 7. The Merchant of Venice. 

To rib her cerecloth in the 6bscure grave. 

Or shall I think in silver she's immured, 

Being ten times undervalued to tried gold ? 

O sinful thought ! Never so rich a gem 

Was set in worse than gold. They have in England 55 

A coin that bears the figure of an angel 

Stamped in gold, but that's insculped upon ; 

But here an angel in a golden bed 

Lies all within. Deliver me the key : 

Here do I choose, and thrive I as I may ! 60 

For. There, take it, prince ; and if my form lie there, 
Then I am* yours. \_He unlocks the golden casket 

Mor. O hell ! what have we here ? 

A carrion Death, within whose empty eye 
There is a written scroll ! I'll read the writing. 

\Reads\ All that glisters is not gold ; 65 

Often have you heard that told : 
Many a man his life hath sold 
But my outside to behold : 
Gilded tombs do worms infold. 
Had you been as wise as bold, 70 

Young in limbs, in judgement old, 
Your answer had not been inscrolled : 
Fare you well ; your suit is cold. 

Cold, indeed ; and labor lost : 

Then, farewell, heat, and welcome, frost ! 75 

Portia, adieu. I have too grieved a heart 
To take a tedious leave : thus losers part. 

[-Exit with his train. Flourish of cornets. 

For. A gentle riddance. Draw the curtains, go. 
Let all of his complexion choose me so. \_Fxeunt. 

35 



The Merchant of Venice. Act II, Scene 8. 

Scene VIII. Venice. A street. 
Enter Salarino and Salanio. 

Salar. Why, man, I saw Bassanio under sail : 
With him is Gratiano gone along ; 
And in their ship I am sure Lorenzo is not. 

Salan. The villain Jew with outcries raised the 
duke, 
Who went with him to search Bassanio's ship. 5 

Salar. He came too late, the ship was under sail : 
But there the duke was given to understand 
That in a gondola were seen together 
Lorenzo and his amorous Jessica : 

Besides, Antonio certified the duke 10 

They were not with Bassanio in his ship. 

Salan. I never heard a passion so confused, 
So strange, outrageous, and so variable, 
As the dog Jew did utter in the streets : 
" My daughter ! O my ducats ! O my daughter! 15 

Fled with a Christian ! O my Christian ducats ! 
Justice ! the law ! my ducats, and my daughter ! 
A sealed bag, two sealed bags of ducats, 
Of double ducats, stolen from me by my daughter ! 
And jewels, two stones, two rich and precious stones, 20 
Stolen by my daughter ! Justice ! find the girl ; 
She hath the stones upon her, and the ducats." 

Salar. Why, all the boys in Venice follow him, 
Crying, his stones, his daughter, and his ducats. 

Salan. Let good Antonio look he keep his day, 25 

Or he shall pay for this. 

Salar. Marry, well remembered. 

36 



Act ii, Scene 8. The Merchant of Venice. 

I reasoned with a Frenchman yesterday, 

Who told me, in the narrow seas that part 

The French and English, there miscarried 

A vessel of our country richly fraught : 30 

I thought upon Antonio when he told me ; 

And wished in silence that it were not his. 

Salan. You were best to tell Antonio what you hear ; 
Yet do not suddenly, for it may grieve him. 

Salar. A kinder gentleman treads not the earth. 35 

I saw Bassanio and Antonio part : 
Bassanio told him he would make some speed 
Of his return : he answered, " Do not so; 
Slubber not business for my sake, Bassanio, 
But stay the very riping of the time ; 40 

And for the Jew's bond which he hath of me, 
Let it not enter in your mind of love : 
Be merry, and employ your chiefest thoughts 
To courtship and such 'fair ostents of love 
As shall conveniently become you there : " 45 

And even there, his eye being big with tears, 
Turning his face, he put his hand behind him, 
And with affection wondrous sensible 
He wrung Bassanio 's hand ; and so they parted. 

Salan, I think he only loves the world for him. 50 

I pray thee, let us go and find him out 
And quicken his embraced heaviness 
With some delight or other. 

Salar. Do we so. \Exeunt. 



37 



The Merchant of Venice. Act n, Scene 9 

Scene IX. Belmont. A room in Portia's house. 

Enter Nerissa with a Servitor. 

Ner. Quick, quick, I pray thee ; draw the curtain 
straight : 
The Prince of Arragon hath ta'en his oath, 
And comes to his election presently. 

Floicrish of cornets. Enter the Prince of Arragon, 
Portia, and their trains. 

For. Behold, there stand the caskets, noble prince : 
If you choose that wherein I am contained, 5 

Straight shall our nuptial rites be solemnized : 
But if you fail, without more speech, my lord, 
You must be gone from hence immediately. 

Ar. I am enjoined by oath to observe three things : 
First, never to unfold to any one 10 

Which casket 'twas I chose ; next, if I fail 
Of the right casket, never in my life 
To woo a maid in way of marriage : 
Lastly, 

If I do fail in fortune of my choice, 15 

Immediately to leave you and be gone. 

Por. To these injunctions every one doth swear 
That comes to hazard for my worthless self. 

Ar. And so have I addressed me. Fortune now 
To my heart's hope ! Gold ; silver ; and base lead. 20 

" Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath." 
You shall look fairer, ere I give or hazard. 
What says the golden chest ? ha ! let me see : 

" Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire." 

38 



Act II, Scene 9. The Merchant of Venice. 

What many men desire ! that " many " may be meant 25 

By the fool multitude, that choose by show, 

Not learning more than the fond eye doth teach ; 

Which pries not to the interior, but, like the martlet, 

Builds in the weather on the outward wall, 

Even in the force and road of casualty. 30 

I will not choose what many men desire, 

Because I will not jump with common spirits 

And rank me with the barbarous multitudes. 

Why, then to thee, thou silver treasure-house ; 

Tell me once more what title thou dost bear : 35 

" Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves :" 

And well said too ; for who shall go about 

To cozen fortune and be honorable 

Without the stamp of merit ? Let none presume 

To wear an undeserved dignity. 40 

O, that estates, degrees and offices 

Were not derived corruptly, and that clear honor 

Were purchased by the merit of the wearer ! 

How many then should cover that stand bare ! 

How many be commanded that command ! 45 

How much low peasantry would then be gleaned 

From the true seed of honor ! and how much honor 

Picked from the chaff and ruin of the times 

To be new varnished ! Well, but to my choice : 

" Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves." 50 

I will assume desert. Give me a key for this, 

And instantly unlock my fortunes here. 

\_ffe opens the silver casket. 

Por. Too long a pause for that which you find there. 

Ar. What's here ? the portrait of a blinking idiot, 
Presenting me a schedule ! I will read it. 55 

39 



The Merchant of Venice. Act n, Scene 9. 

How much unlike art thou to Portia ! 

How much unlike my hopes and my deservings ! 

" Who chooseth me shall have as much as he deserves." 

Did I deserve no more than a fool's head ? 

Is that my prize ? are my deserts no better ? 60 

Por. To offend, and judge, are distinct offices 
And of opposed natures. 

Ar. What is here ? 

\Reads\ The fire seven times tried this : 

Seven times tried that judgement is, 

That did never choose amiss. 65 

Some there be that shadows kiss ; 

Such have but a shadow's bliss : 

There be fools alive, I wis, 

Silvered o'er ; and so was this. 

I will ever be your head : 70 

So be gone : you are sped. 

Still more fool I shall appear 

By the time I linger here : 

With one fool's head I came to woo, 

But I go away with two. 75 

Sweet, adieu. I'll keep my oath, 

Patiently to bear my wroth. 

[Exeunt Arragon and train. 
Por. Thus hath the candle singed the moth. 
O, these deliberate fools ! when they do choose, 
They have the wisdom by their wit to lose, 80 

Ner. The ancient saying is no heresy, 
Hanging and wiving goes by destiny. 
Por. Come, draw the curtain, Nerissa. 

40 



Act in, Scene l. The Merchant of Venice. 

Enter a Servant. 

Serv. Where is my lady ? 

For. Here : what would my lord ? 

Serv. Madam, there is alighted at your gate 85 

A young Venetian, one that comes before 
To signify the approaching of his lord ; 
From whom he bringeth sensible regreets, 
To wit, besides commends and courteous breath, 
Gifts of rich value. Yet I have not seen 90 

So likely an ambassador of love : 
A day in April never came so sweet, 
To show how costly summer was at hand, 
As this fore-spurrer comes before his lord. 

For. No more, I pray thee : I am half afeared 95 

Thou wilt say anon he is some kin to thee, 
Thou spend'st such high-day wit in praising him. 
Come, come, Nerissa ; for I long to see 
Quick Cupid's post that comes so mannerly. 

Ner. Bassanio, lord Love, if thy will it be ! 100 

[Exeunt. 
ACT III. 

Scene I. Venice. A street. 
Enter Salanio and Salarino. 

Satan. Now, what news on the Rialto ? 

Salar. Why, yet it lives there unchecked that Antonio 
hath a ship of rich lading wrecked on the narrow seas ; 
the Goodwins, I think they call the place ; a very dan- 
gerous flat and fatal, where the carcases of many a tall 
ship lie buried, as they say, if my gossip Report be an 
honest woman of her word. 7 

Satan. I would she were as lying a gossip in that as 

4 1 



The Merchant of Venice. Act ill, Scene l. 

ever knapped ginger or made her neighbors believe she 
wept for the death of a third husband. But it is true, 
without any slips of prolixity or crossing the plain high- 
way of talk, that the good Antonio, the honest Antonio, 
— O that I had a title good enough to keep his name 
company ! — 14 

Salar. Come, the full stop. 

Salan. Ha ! what sayest thou ? Why, the end is, he 
hath lost a ship. 

Salar. I would it might prove the end of his losses. 

Salan. Let me say "amen" betimes, lest the devil 
cross my prayer, for here he comes in the likeness of a 

Jew. 21 

Enter Shylock. 

How now, Shylock ! what news among the merchants ? 

Shy. You knew, none so well, none so well as you, of 
my daughter's flight. 

Salar. That's certain : I, for my part, knew the tailor 
that made the wings she flew withal. 26 

Salan. And Shylock, for his own part, knew the bird 
was fledged ; and then it is the complexion of them all 
to leave the dam. 

Shy. She is damned for it. 

Salar. That's certain, if the devil may be her judge. 31 

Shy. My own flesh and blood to rebel ! 

Salan. Out upon it, old carrion ! 

Shy. I say, my daughter is my flesh and blood. 

Salar. There is more difference between thy flesh and 
hers than between jet and ivory ; more between your 
bloods than there is between red wine and rhenish. But 
tell us, do you hear whether Antonio have had any loss 
at sea or no ? 39 

42 



Act in, Scene l. The Merchant of Venice. 

Shy. There I have another bad match : a bankrupt, a 
prodigal, who dare scarce show his head on the Rialto ; a 
beggar, that was used to come so smug upon the mart ; 
let him look to his bond : he was wont to call me usurer ; 
let him look to his bond : he was wont to lend money for 
a Christian courtesy ; let him look to his bond. 45 

Salar. Why, I am sure, if he forfeit, thou wilt not 
take his flesh : what's that good for ? 

Shy. To bait fish withal : if it will feed nothing else, 
it will feed my revenge. He hath disgraced me, and 
hindered me half a million ; laughed at my losses, mocked 
at my gains, scorned my nation, thwarted my bargains, 
cooled my friends, heated mine enemies ; and what's his 
reason ? I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes ? hath not 
a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, pas- 
sions ? fed with the same food, hurt with the same weap- 
ons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same 
means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and sum- 
mer, as a Christian is ? If you prick us, do we not bleed ? 
if you tickle us, do we not laugh ? if you poison us, do we 
not die ? and if you wrong us, shall we not revenge ? If 
we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that. 
If a Jew wrong a Christian, what is his humility ? Re- 
venge. If a Christian wrong a Jew, what should his suf- 
ferance be by Christian example ? Why, revenge. The 
villainy you teach me, I will execute, and it shall go hard 
but I will better the instruction. 66 

Enter a Servant. 

Serv. Gentlemen, my master Antonio is at his house 
and desires to speak with you both. 

Salar. We have been up and down to seek him, 

43 



The Merchant of Venice. Act III, Scene l. 

Enter Tubal. 

Salan. Here comes another of the tribe : a third can- 
not be matched, unless the devil himself turn Jew. 71 
[Exeunt Sa/anw, Salarino, and Servant. 

Shy. How now, Tubal ! what news from Genoa ? hast 
thou found my daughter ? 

Tub. I often came where I did hear of her, but cannot 
find her. 75 

Shy. Why, there, there, there, there ! a diamond gone, 
cost me two thousand ducats in Frankfort ! The curse 
never fell upon our nation till now ; I never felt it till 
now : two thousand ducats in that ; and other precious, 
precious jewels. I would my daughter were dead at my 
foot, and the jewels in her ear ! would she were hearsed 
at my foot, and the ducats in her coffin ! No news of 
them ? Why, so : and I know not what's spent in the 
search : why, thou loss upon loss ! the thief gone with so 
much, and so much to find the thief ; and no satisfaction, 
no revenge : nor no ill luck stirring but what lights on 
my shoulders ; no sighs but of my breathing ; no tears 
but of my shedding. S8 

Tub. Yes, other men have ill luck too : Antonio, as I 
heard in Genoa, — 

Shy. What, what, what ? ill luck, ill luck ? 91 

Tub. Hath an argosy cast away, coming from Tripolis. 

Shy. I thank God, I thank God. Is't true, is't true ? 

Tub. I spoke with some of the sailors that escaped the 
wreck. 95 

Shy. I thank thee, good Tubal : good news, good news ! 
ha, ha ! where? in Genoa? 

Tub. Your daughter spent in Genoa, as I heard, in 
one night fourscore ducats. 99 

44 



Act in, Scene 2. The Merchant of Venice. 

Shy. Thou stickest a dagger in me : I shall never see 
my gold again : fourscore ducats at a sitting ! fourscore 
ducats ! 102 

Tub. There came divers of Antonio's creditors in my 
company to Venice, that swear he cannot choose but break. 

Shy. I am very glad of it : I'll plague him ; I'll torture 
him : I am glad of it. 106 

Tub. One of them showed me a ring that he had of 
your daughter for a monkey. 

Shy. Out upon her ! Thou torturest me, Tubal : it 
was my turquoise ; I had it of Leah when I was a 
bachelor : I would not have given it for a wilderness of 
monkeys. 112 

Tub. But Antonio is certainly undone. 

Shy. Nay, that's true, that's very true. Go, Tubal, 
fee me an officer ; bespeak him a fortnight before. I 
will have the heart of him, if he forfeit ; for, were he out 
of Venice, I can make what merchandise I will. Go, go, 
Tubal, and meet me at our synagogue ; go, good Tubal ; 
at our synagogue, Tubal. m [Exeunt. 

Scene II. Belniont. A room in Portia's house. 

Enter Bassanio, Portia, Gratiano, Nerissa, and 
Attendants. 

Por. I pray you, tarry : pause a day or two 
Before you hazard ; for, in choosing wrong, 
I lose your company : therefore forbear awhile. 
There's something tells me, but it is not love, 
I would not lose you ; and you know yourself, 5 

Hate counsels not in such a quality. 
But lest you should not understand me well, — ■ 

45 



The Merchant of Venice. Act in, Scene 2. 

And yet a maiden hath no tongue but thought, — 

I would detain you here some month or two 

Before you venture for me. I could teach you 10 

How to choose right, but I am then forsworn ; 

So will I never be : so may you miss me ; 

But if you do, you'll make me wish a sin, 

That I had been forsworn. Beshrew your eyes, 

They have o'erlooked me and divided me ; 15 

One half of me is yours, the other half yours, 

Mine own, I would say ; but if mine, then yours, 

And so all yours. O, these naughty times 

Put bars between the owners and their rights ! 

And so, though yours, not yours. Prove it so, 20 

Let fortune go to hell for it, not I. 

I speak too long ; but 'tis to peize the time, 

To eke it and to draw it out in length, 

To stay you from election. 

Bass. Let me choose ; 

For as I am, I live upon the rack. 25 

Por. Upon the rack, Bassanio ! then confess 
What treason there is mingled with your love. 

Bass. None but that ugly treason of mistrust, 
Which makes me fear the enjoying of my love : 
There may as well be amity and life 30 

'Tween snow and fire, as treason and my love. 

Por. Ay, but I fear you speak upon the rack, 
Where men enforced do speak anything. 

Bass. Promise me life, and I'll confess the truth. 

Por. Well then, confess and live. 

Bass. " Confess " and " love " 

Had been the very sum of my confession : 36 

O happy torment, when my torturer 

46 



Act in, Scene 2. The Merchant of Venice. 



Doth teach me answers for deliverance ! 
But let me to my fortune and the caskets. 

For. Away, then ! I am locked in one of them : 40 
If you do love me you will find me out. 
Nerissa and the rest, stand all aloof. 
Let music sound while he doth make his choice ; 
Then, if he lose, he makes a swan-like end, 
Fading in music : that the comparison 45 

May stand more proper, my eye shall be the stream 
And watery death-bed for him. He may win ; 
And what is music then ? Then music is 
Even as the flourish when true subjects bow 
To a new-crowned monarch : such it is 50 

As are those dulcet sounds in break of day 
That creep into the dreaming bridegroom's ear 
And summon him to marriage. Now he goes, 
With no less presence, but with much more love, 
Than young Alcides, when he did redeem 55 

The virgin tribute paid by howling Troy 
To the sea-monster : I stand for sacrifice ; 
The rest aloof are the Dardanian wives, 
With bleared visages, come forth to view 
The issue of the exploit. Go, Hercules ! 60 

Live thou, I live : with much much more dismay 
I view the fight than thou that makest the fray. 

Music, whilst Bassanio comments on the caskets to himself. 

Song. 

Tell me where is fancy bred, 
Or in the heart or in the head ? 
How begot, how nourished ? 65 

Reply, reply. 

47 



The Merchant of Venice. Act in, Scene 2. 

It is engendered in the eyes, 

With gazing fed ; and fancy dies 

In the cradle where it lies. 

Let us all ring fancy's knell : 70 

I'll begin it, — Ding, dong, bell. 
All. Ding, dong, bell. 

Bass. So may the outward shows be least themselves : 
The world is still deceived with ornament. 
In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt 75 

But, being seasoned with a gracious voice, 
Obscures the show of evil ? In religion, 
What damned error, but some sober brow 
Will bless it and approve it with a text, 
Hiding the grossness with fair ornament ? So 

There is no vice so simple but assumes 
Some mark of virtue on his outward parts : 
How many cowards, whose hearts are all as false 
As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their chins 
The beards of Hercules and frowning Mars, 85 

Who, inward searched, have livers white as milk ; 
And these assume but valor's excrement 
To render them redoubted ! Look on beauty, 
And you shall see 'tis purchased by the weight ; 
Which therein works a miracle in nature, 90 

Making them lightest that wear most of it : 
So are those crisped snaky golden locks 
Which make such wanton gambols with the wind, 
Upon supposed fairness, often known 
To be the dowry of a second head, 95 

The skull that bred them in the sepulchre. 
Thus ornament is but the guil^d shore 
To a most dangerous sea ; the beauteous scarf 

48 



Act in, Scene 2. The Merchant of Venice. 

Veiling an. Indian beauty ; in a word, 

The seeming truth which cunning times put on ioo 

To entrap the wisest. Therefore, thou gaudy gold, 

Hard food for Midas, I will none of thee ; 

Nor none of thee, thou pale and common drudge 

'Tween man and man : but thou, thou meagre lead, 

Which rather threatenest than dost promise aught, 105 

Thy paleness moves me more than eloquence ; 

And here choose I : joy be the consequence ! 

For. \_Aside\ How all the other passions fleet to air, 
As doubtful thoughts, and rash-embraced despair, 
And shuddering fear, and green-eyed jealousy ! no 

love, 

Be moderate ; allay thy ecstasy ; 

In measure rain thy joy ; scant this excess. 

1 feel too much thy blessing : make it less, 
For fear I surfeit. 

Bass. What find I here ? 115 

[Opening the leaden casket. 
Fair Portia's counterfeit ! What demi-god 
Hath come so near creation ? Move these eyes ? 
Or whether, riding on the balls of mine, 
Seem they in motion ? Here are severed lips, 
Parted with sugar breath : so sweet a bar 120 

Should sunder such sweet friends. Here in her hairs 
The painter plays the spider and hath woven 
A golden mesh to entrap the hearts of men 
Faster than gnats in cobwebs : but her eyes, — ■ 
How could he see to do them ? having made one, 125 

Methinks it should have power to steal both his 
And leave itself unfurnished. Yet look, how far 
The substance of my praise doth wrong this shadow 

49 



The Merchant of Venice. Act in, Scene 2. 

In underprizing it, so far this shadow 

Doth limp behind the substance. Here's the scroll, 130 

The continent and summary of my fortune. 

\Reads\ You that choose not by the view, 
Chance as fair and choose as true ! 
Since this fortune falls to you, 
Be content and seek no new. 135 

If you be well pleased with this 
And hold your fortune for your bliss, 
Turn you where your lady is 
And claim her with a loving kiss. 

A gentle scroll. Fair lady, by your leave ; 140 

I come by note, to give and to receive. 

Like one of two contending in a prize, 

That thinks he hath done well in people's eyes, 

Hearing applause and universal shout, 

Giddy in spirit, still gazing in a doubt 145 

Whether those peals of praise be his or no ; 

So, thrice-fair lady, stand I, even so ; 

As doubtful whether what I see be true, 

Until confirmed, signed, ratified by you. 

Por. You see me, Lord Bassanio, where I stand, 150 
Such as I am : though for myself alone 
I would not be ambitious in my wish, 
To wish myself much better ; yet, for you 
I would be trebled twenty times myself ; 
A thousand times more fair, ten thousand times 155 

More rich ; 

That only to stand high in your account, 
I might in virtues, beauties, livings, friends, 
Exceed account ; but the full sum of me 

5° 



Act in, Scene 2. The Merchant of Venice. 

Is sum of — something, which to term in gross, 160 

Is an unlessoned girl, unschooled, unpractised ; 

Happy in this, she is not yet so old 

But she may learn ; happier than this, 

She is not bred so dull but she can learn ; 

Happiest of all in that her gentle spirit 165 

Commits itself to yours to be directed, 

As from her lord, her governor, her king. 

Myself and what is mine to you and yours 

Is now converted : but now I was the lord 

Of this fair mansion, master of my servants, 170 

Queen o'er myself ; and even now, but now, 

This house, these servants and this same myself 

Are yours, my lord : I give them with this ring ; 

Which when you part from, lose, or give away, 

Let it presage the ruin of your love 175 

And be my vantage to exclaim on you. 

Bass. Madam, you have bereft me of all words ; 
Only my blood speaks to you in my veins ; 
And there is such confusion in my powers, 
As, after some oration fairly spoke 180 

By a beloved prince, there doth appear 
Among the buzzing pleased multitude ; 
Where every something, being blent together, 
Turns to a wild of nothing, save of joy, 
Expressed and not expressed. But when this ring 185 

Parts from this finger, then parts life from hence : 
O, then be bold to say Bassanio's dead ! 

Ner. My lord and lady, it is now our time, 
That have stood by and seen our wishes prosper, 
To cry, good joy : good joy, my lord and lady ! 190 

Gra. My lord Bassanio and my gentle lady, 

51 



The Merchant of Venice. Act III, Scene 2. 

I wish you all the joy that you can wish ; 

For I am sure you can wish none from me : 

And when your honors mean to solemnize 

The bargain of your faith, I do beseech you, 195 

Even at that time I may be married too. 

Bass. With all my heart, so thou canst get a wife. 

Gra. I thank your lordship, you have got me one. 
My eyes, my lord, can look as swift as yours : 
You saw the mistress, I beheld the maid ; 200 

You loved, I loved : for intermission 
No more pertains to me, my lord, than you. 
Your fortune stood upon the casket there, 
And so did mine too, as the matter falls ; 
For wooing here until I sweat again, 205 

And swearing till my very roof was dry 
With oaths of love, at last, if promise last, 
I got a promise of this fair one here 
To have her love, provided that your fortune 
Achieved her mistress. 

Por. Is this true, Nerissa ? 210 

Ner. Madam, it is, so you stand pleased withal. 

Bass. And do you, Gratiano, mean good faith ? 

Gra. Yes, faith, my lord. 

Bass. Our feast shall be much honored in your mar- 
riage. 215 

Gra. But who comes here ? Lorenzo and his infidel ? 
What, and my old Venetian friend Salerio ? 

Enter Lorenzo, Jessica, and Salerio, a Messenger fro?n 

Venice. 

Bass. Lorenzo and Salerio, welcome hither ; 
If that the youth of my new interest here 

5 2 



Act in, Scene 2. The Merchant of Venice. 

Have power to bid you welcome. By your leave, 220 

I bid my very friends and countrymen, 
Sweet Portia, welcome. 

For. So do I, my lord : 

They are entirely welcome. 

Lor. I thank your honor. For my part, my lord, 
My purpose was not to have seen you here ; 225 

But meeting with Salerio by the way, 
He did intreat me, past all saying nay, 
To come with him along. 

Saler. I did, my lord ; 

And I have reason for it. Signior Antonio 
Commends him to you. [Gives Bassanio a letter. 

Bass. Ere I ope his letter, 230 

I pray you, tell me how my good friend doth. 

Saler. Not sick, my lord, unless it be in mind ; 
Nor well, unless in mind : his letter there 
Will show you his estate. 

Gra. Nerissa, cheer yon stranger ; bid her welcome. 
Your hand, Salerio : what's the news from Venice ? 236 
How doth that royal merchant, good Antonio ? 
I know he will be glad of our success ; 
We are the Jasons, we have won the fleece. 

Saler. I would you had won the fleece that he hath 
lost. 240 

For. There are some shrewd contents in yon same 
paper, 
That steals the color from Bassanio's cheek : 
Some dear friend dead ; else nothing in the world 
Could turn so much the constitution 

Of any constant man. What, worse and worse ! 245 

With leave, Bassanio ; I am half yourself, 

53 



The Merchant of Venice. Act III, Scene 2. 

And I must freely have the half of anything 
That this same paper brings you. 

Bass. O sweet Portia, 

Here are a few of the unpleasant'st words 
That ever blotted paper ! Gentle lady, 250 

When I did first impart my love to you, 
I freely told you all the wealth I had 
Ran in my veins : I was a gentleman ; 
And then I told you true : and yet, dear lady, 
Rating myself at nothing, you shall see 255 

How much I was a braggart. When I told you 
My state was nothing, I should then have told you 
That I was worse than nothing ; for, indeed, 
I have engaged myself to a dear friend, 
Engaged my friend to his mere enemy, 260 

To feed my means. Here is a letter, lady ; 
The paper as the body of my friend, 
And every word in it a gaping wound 
Issuing life-blood. But is it true, Salerio ? 
Have all his ventures failed ? What, not one hit ? 265 

From Tripolis, from Mexico and England, 
From Lisbon, Barbary and India ? 
And not one vessel 'scape the dreadful touch 
Of merchant-marring rocks ? 

Safer. Not one, my lord. 

Besides, it should appear, that if he had 270 

The present money to discharge the Jew, 
He would not take it. Never did I know 
A creature, that did bear the shape of man, 
So keen and greedy to confound a man : 
He plies the duke at morning and at night, 275 

And doth impeach the freedom of the state, 

54 



Act in, Scene 2. The Merchant of Venice. 

If they deny him justice : twenty merchants, 

The duke himself, and the magnificoes 

Of greatest port, have all persuaded with him ; 

But none can drive him from the envious plea 280 

Of forfeiture, of justice and his bond. 

Jes. When I was with him I have heard him swear 
To Tubal and to Chus, his countrymen, 
That he would rather have Antonio's flesh 
Than twenty times the value of the sum 285 

That he did owe him : and I know, my lord, 
If law, authority and power deny not, 
It will go hard with poor Antonio. 

Por. Is it your dear friend that is thus in trouble ? 

Bass. The dearest friend to me, the kindest man, 290 
The best-conditioned and unwearied spirit 
In doing courtesies, and one in whom 
The ancient Roman honor more appears 
Than any that draws breath in Italy. 

Por. What sum owes he the Jew ? 295 

Bass. For me three thousand ducats. 

Por. What, no more ? 

Pay him six thousand, and deface the bond ; 
Double six thousand, and then treble that, 
Before a friend of this description 

Shall lose a hair through Bassanio's fault. 300 

First go with me to church and call me wife, 
And then away to Venice to your friend ; 
You shall have gold 

To pay the petty debt twenty times over : 
When it is paid, bring your true friend along. 305 

My maid Nerissa and myself meantime 
Will live as maids and widows. Come, away ! 

55 



The Merchant of Venice. Act III, Scene 3. 

For you shall hence upon your wedding-day : 

Bid your friends welcome, show a merry cheer : 

Since you are dear bought, I will love you dear. 310 

But let me hear the letter of your friend. 

Bass. [Reads'] Sweet Bassanio, my ships have all 
miscarried, my creditors grow cruel, my estate is very 
low, my bond to the Jew is forfeit ; and since in paying 
it, it is impossible I should live, all debts are cleared be- 
tween you and I, if I might but see you at my death. 
Notwithstanding, use your pleasure : if your love do not 
persuade you to come, let not my letter. 318 

For. O love, dispatch all business, and be gone ! 

Bass. Since I have your good leave to go away, 
I will make haste : but, till I come again, 
No bed shall e'er be guilty of my stay, 

No rest be interposer 'twixt us twain. [Exeunt. 



Scene III. Venice. A street. 
Enter Shylock, Salarino, Antonio, and Gaoler. 

Shy. Gaoler, look to him : tell not me of mercy ; 
This is the fool that lent out money gratis : 
Gaoler, look to him. 

Ant. Hear me yet, good Shylock. 

Shy. I'll have my bond ; speak not against my bond : 
I have sworn an oath that I will have my bond. 5 

Thou calledst me dog before thou hadst a cause ; 
But, since I am a dog, beware my fangs : 
The duke shall grant me justice. I do wonder, 
Thou naughty gaoler, that thou art so fond 
To come abroad with him at his request. 10 

56 



Act in, Scene 3. The Merchant of Venice. 

Ant. I pray thee, hear me speak. 

Shy. I'll have my bond ; I will not hear thee speak : 
I'll have my bond ; and therefore speak no more. 
I'll not be made a soft and dull-eyed fool, 
To shake the head, relent, and sigh, and yield 15 

To Christian intercessors. Follow not ; 
I'll have no speaking : I will have my bond. \_Exit. 

Salar. It is the most impenetrable cur 
That ever kept with men. 

Ant. Let him alone : 

I'll follow him no more with bootless prayers. 20 

He seeks my life ; his reason well I know : 
I oft delivered from his forfeitures 
Many that have at times made moan to me ; 
Therefore he hates me. 

Salar. I am sure the duke 

Will never grant this forfeiture to hold. 25 

Ant. The duke cannot deny the course of law : 
For the commodity that strangers have 
With us in Venice, if it be denied, 
Will much impeach the justice of his state ; 
Since that the trade and profit of the city 30 

Consisteth of all nations. Therefore, go : 
These griefs and losses have so bated me, 
That I shall hardly spare a pound of flesh 
To-morrow to my bloody creditor. 

Well, gaoler, on. Pray God, Bassanio come 35 

To see me pay his debt, and then I care not ! 

\_Exeunt. 



SI 



The Merchant of Venice. Act in, Scene 4. 



Scene IV. Belmont. A room in Portia's house. 

Enter Portia, Nerissa, Lorenzo, Jessica, and 
Balthasar. 

Lor. Madam, although I speak it in your presence, 
You have a noble and a true conceit 
Of god-like amity ; which appears most strongly 
In bearing thus the absence of your lord. 
But if you knew to whom you show this honor, 5 

How true a gentleman you send relief, 
How dear a lover of my lord your husband, 
I know you would be prouder of the work 
Than customary bounty can enforce you. 

Por. I never did repent for doing good, 10 

Nor shall not now : for in companions 
That do converse and waste the time together, 
Whose souls do bear an equal yoke of love, 
There must be needs a like proportion 
Of lineaments, of manners and of spirit ; 15 

Which makes me think that this Antonio, 
Being the bosom lover of my lord, 
Must needs be like my lord. If it be so, 
How little is the cost I have bestowed 
In purchasing the semblance of my soul 2: 

From out the state of hellish misery ! 
This comes too near the praising of myself ; 
Therefore no more of it : hear other things. 
Lorenzo, I commit into your hands 

The husbandry and manage of my house 25 

Until my lord's return : for mine own part, 
I have toward heaven breathed a secret vow 

58 



Act in, Scene 4. The Merchant of Venice. 

To live in prayer and contemplation, 

Only attended by Nerissa here, 

Until her husband and my lord's return : 30 

There is a monastery two miles off ; 

And there will we abide. I do desire you 

Not to deny this imposition ; 

The which my love and some necessity 

Now lays upon you. 

Lor. Madam, with all my heart ; 35 

I shall obey you in all fair commands. 

Por. My people do already know my mind, 
And will acknowledge you and Jessica 
In place of Lord Bassanio and myself. 
And so farewell, till we shall meet again. 40 

Lor. Fair thoughts and happy hours attend on you ! 

r es. I wish your ladyship all heart's content. 

Por. I thank you for your wish, and am well pleased 
To wish it back on you : fare you well, Jessica. 

\_Exeunt Jessica and Lorenzo. 
Now, Balthasar, 45 

As I have ever found thee honest-true, 
So let me find thee still. Take this same letter, 
And use thou all the endeavor of a man 
In speed tc Padua : see thou render this 
Into my cousin's hand, Doctor Bellario ; . 50 

And, look, what notes and garments he doth give thee, 
Bring them, I pray thee, with imagined speed 
Unto the tranect, to the common ferry 
Which trades to Venice. Waste no time in words, 
But get thee gone : I shall be there before thee. 55 

Balth. Madam, I go with all convenient speed. \_Exit. 

Por. Come on, Nerissa ; I have work in hand 

59 



The Merchant of Venice. Act in, Scene 5. 

That you yet know not of : we'll see our husbands 
Before they think of us. 

Ner. Shall they see us ? 

Por. They shall, Nerissa ; but in such a habit, 60 

That they shall think we are accomplished 
With that we lack. I'll hold thee any wager, 
When we are both accoutred like young men, 
I'll prove the prettier fellow of the two, 
And wear my dagger with the braver grace, 65 

And speak between the change of man and boy 
With a reed voice, and turn two mincing steps 
Into a manly stride, and speak of frays 
Like a fine bragging youth, and tell quaint lies, 
How honorable ladies sought my love, 7° 

Which I denying, they fell sick and died ; 
I could not do withal ; then I'll repent, 
And wish, for all that, that I had not killed them ; 
And twenty of these puny lies I'll tell. 
That men shall swear I have discontinued school 75 

Above a twelvemonth. I have within my mind 
A thousand raw tricks of these bragging jacks, 
Which I will practise. 
But come, I'll tell thee all my whole device 
When I am in my coach, which stays for us 80 

At the park gate ; and therefore haste away, 
For we must measure twenty miles to-day. \_Exeunt. 

Scene V. The same. A garden. 

Enter Launcelot and Jessica. 

Laun. Yes, truly ; for, look you, the sins of the 
father are to be laid upon the children : therefore, I 

60 



Act in, Scene 5. The Merchant of Venice. 

promise ye, I fear you. I was always plain with you, 
and so now I speak my agitation of the matter : therefore 
be of good cheer, for truly I think you are damned. 

Jes. I shall be saved by my husband ; he hath made 
me a Christian. 

Laun. Truly, the more to blame he : we were Chris- 
tians enow before ; e'en as many as could well live, one 
by another. This making of Christians will raise the 
price of hogs : if we grow all to be pork-eaters, we shall 
not shortly have a rasher on the coals for money. 12 

Enter Lorenzo. 

Jes. I'll tell my husband, Launcelot, what you say: 
here he comes. 

Lor. I shall grow jealous of you shortly, Launcelot, 
if you thus get my wife into corners. 16 

Jes. Nay, you need not fear us, Lorenzo: Launcelot 
and I are out. He tells me flatly, there is no mercy for me 
in heaven, because I am a Jew's daughter : and he says 
you are no good member of the commonwealth, for in con- 
verting Jews to Christians, you raise the price of pork. 21 

Lor. I think the best grace of wit will shortly turn 
into silence, and discourse grow commendable in none 
only but parrots. Go in, sirrah ; bid them prepare for 
dinner. 25 

Laun. That is done, sir ; they have all stomachs. 

Lor. Goodly Lord, what a wit-snapper are you ! then 
bid them prepare dinner. 

Laun. That is done too, sir ; only " cover " is the 
word. 

Lor. Will you cover then, sir? 

Laun. Not so, sir, neither ; I know my duty. 32 

6l 



The Merchant of Venice. Act III, Scene 5. 

Lo7\ Yet more quarreling with occasion ! Wilt thou 
show the whole wealth of thy wit in an instant ? I pray 
thee, understand a plain man in his plain meaning: go to 
thy fellows ; bid them cover the table, serve in the meat, 
and we will come in to dinner. 37 

Laun. For the table, sir, it shall be served in ; for 
the meat, sir, it shall be covered ; for your coming in to 
dinner, sir, why, let it be as humors and conceits shall 
govern. [Exit. 

Lor. O dear discretion, how his words are suited ! 
The fool hath planted in his memory 
An army of good words ; and I do know 
A many fools, that stand in better place, 45 

Garnished like him, that for a tricksy word 
Defy the matter. How cheer'st thou, Jessica ? 
And now, good sweet, say thy opinion, 
How dost thou like the Lord Bassanio's wife ? 

Jes. Past all expressing. It is very meet 50 

The Lord Bassanio live an upright life ; 
For, having such a blessing in his lady, 
He finds the joys of heaven here on earth ; 
And if on earth he do not mean it, then 
In reason he should never come to heaven. 55 

Why, if two gods should play some heavenly match 
And on the wager lay two earthly women, 
And Portia one, there must be something else 
Pawned with the other, for the poor rude world 
Hath not her fellow. 

Lor. Even such a husband 60 

Hast thou of me as she is for a wife. 

Jes. Nay, but ask my opinion too of that. 

Lor. I will anon : first, let us go to dinner. 

62 



Act iv, Scene l. The Merchant of Venice. 

Jes. Nay, let me praise you while I have a stomach. 

Lor. No, pray thee, let it serve for table-talk ; 65 

Then, howsoe'er thou speak'st, 'mong other things 
I shall digest it. 

Jes. Well, I'll set you forth. \Exeunt. 



ACT IV. 

Scene I. Venice. A court of justice. 

Enter the Duke, the Magnificoes, Antonio, Bassanio, 
Gratiano, Salerio, and others. 

Duke. What, is Antonio here ? 

Ant. Ready, so please your grace. 

Duke. I am sorry for thee : thou art come to answer 
A stony adversary, an inhuman wretch 
Uncapable of pity, void and empty 5 

From any dram of mercy. 

Ant. I have heard 

Your grace hath ta'en great pains to qualify 
His rigorous course ; but since he stands obdurate 
And that no lawful means can carry me 
Out of his envy's reach, I do oppose 10 

My patience to his fury, and am armed 
To suffer, with a quietness of spirit, 
The very tyranny and rage of his. 

Duke. Go one, and call the Jew into the court. 

Saler. He is ready at the door : he comes, my lord. 15 



63 



The Merchant of Venice. Act iv, Scene 1. 



Enter Shylock. 

Duke. Make room, and let him stand before our face. 
Shylock, the world thinks, and I think so too, 
That thou but lead'st this fashion of thy malice 
To the last hour of act ; and then 'tis thought 
Thou 'It show thy mercy and remorse more strange 20 

Than is thy strange apparent cruelty ; 
And where thou now exact 'st the penalty, 
Which is a pound of this poor merchant's flesh, 
Thou wilt not only loose the forfeiture, 
But, touched with human gentleness and love, 25 

Forgive a moiety of the principal ; 
Glancing an eye of pity on his losses, 
That have of late so huddled on his back, 
Enow to press a royal merchant down 
And pluck commiseration of his state 30 

From brassy bosoms and rough hearts of flint, 
From stubborn Turks and Tartars, never trained 
To offices of tender courtesy. 
We all expect a gentle answer, Jew. 

Shy. I have possessed your grace of what I purpose ; 35 
And by our holy Sabbath have I sworn 
To have the due and forfeit of my bond : 
If you deny it, let the danger light 
Upon your charter and your city's freedom. 
You'll ask me, why I rather choose to have 4° 

A weight of carrion flesh than to receive 
Three thousand ducats : I'll not answer that : 
But, say, it is my humor : is it answered ? 
What if my house be troubled with a rat, 
And I be pleased to give ten thousand ducats 45 

64 



Act iv, Scene l. The Merchant of Venice 

To have it baned ? What, are you answered yet ? 

Some men there are love not a gaping pig ; 

Some, that are mad if they behold a cat ; 

For affection, 

Mistress of passion, sways it to the mood 50 

Of what it likes or loathes. Now, for your answer : 

As there is no firm reason to be rendered, 

Why he cannot abide a gaping pig ; 

Why he, a harmless necessary cat ; 

So can I give no reason, nor I will not, 55 

More than a lodged hate and a certain loathing 

I bear Antonio, that I follow thus 

A losing suit against him. Are you answered ? 

Bass. This is no answer, thou unfeeling man, 
To excuse the current of thy cruelty. 60 

Shy. I am not bound to please thee with my answers. 

Bass. Do all men kill the things they do not love ? 

Shy. Hates any man the thing he would not kill ? 

Bass. Every offence is not a hate at first. 

Shy. What, wouldst thou have a serpent sting thee 
twice ? 65 

Ant. I pray you, think you question with the Jew : 
You may as well go stand upon the beach 
And bid the main flood bate his usual height ; 
You may as well use question with the wolf 
Why he hath made the ewe bleat for the lamb ; 70 

You may as well forbid the mountain pines 
To wag their high tops and to make no noise, 
When they are fretten with the gusts of heaven ; 
You may as well do any thing most hard, 
As seek to soften that — than which what's harder ? — 75 
His Jewish heart : therefore, I do beseech you, 

65 



The Merchant of Venice. Act iv, Scene 1 

Make no more offers, use no farther means, 
But with all brief and plain conveniency 
Let me have judgement and the Jew his will. 

Bass. For thy three thousand ducats here is six. 80 

Shy. If every ducat in six thousand ducats 
Were in six parts and every part a ducat, 
I would not draw them ; I would have my bond. 

Duke. How shalt thou hope for mercy, rendering 
none? 

Shy. What judgement shall I dread, doing no 
wrong ? 85 

You have among you many a purchased slave, 
Which, like your asses and your dogs and mules, 
You use in abject and in slavish parts, 
Because you bought them : shall I say to you, 
Let them be free, marry them to your heirs ? 90 

Why sweat they under burthens ? let their beds 
Be made, as soft as yours and let their palates 
Be seasoned with such viands ? You will answer, 
" The slaves are ours : " so do I answer you : 
The pound of flesh, which I demand of him, 95 

Is dearly bought ; 'tis mine and I will have it. 
If you deny me, fie upon your law ! 
There is no force in the decrees of Venice. 
I stand for judgement : answer ; shall I have it ? 

Duke. Upon my power I may dismiss this court, 100 
Unless Bellario, a learned doctor, 
Whom I have sent for to determine this, 
Come here to-day. 

Saler. My lord, here stays without 

A messenger with letters from the doctor, 
New come from Padua. 105 

66 



Act. iv, Scene l. The Merchant of Venice. 

Duke. Bring us the letters ; call the messenger. 

Bass. Good cheer, Antonio ! What, man, courage 
yet! 
The Jew shall have my flesh, blood, bones and all, 
Ere thou shalt lose for me one drop of blood. 

Ant. I am a tainted wether of the flock, no 

Meetest for death : the weakest kind of fruit 
Drops earliest to the ground ; and so let me : 
You cannot better be employed, Bassanio, 
Than to live still and write mine epitaph. 

Enter Nerissa, dressed like a lawyer's clerk. 

Duke. Came you from Padua, from Bellario ? 115 

Ner. From both, my lord. Bellario greets your grace. 

\_Presenting a letter. 

Bass. Why dost thou whet thy knife so earnestly ? 

Shy. To cut the forfeiture from that bankrupt there. 

Gra. Not on thy sole, but on thy soul, harsh Jew, 
Thou makest thy knife keen ; but no metal can, 120 

No, not the hangman's axe, bear half the keenness 
Of thy sharp envy. Can no prayers pierce thee ? 

Shy. No, none that thou hast wit enough to make. 

Gra. O, be thou damned, inexorable dog! 
And for thy life let justice be accused. 125 

Thou almost makest me waver in my faith 
To hold opinion with Pythagoras, 
That souls of animals infuse themselves 
Into the trunks of men : thy currish spirit 
Governed a wolf, who, hanged for human slaughter, 130 
Even from the gallows did his fell soul fleet, 
And, whilst thou lay'st in thy unhallowed dam, 
Infused itself in thee ; for thy desires 

67 



The Merchant of Venice. Act iv, Scene l. 

Are wolvish, bloody, starved and ravenous. 

Shy. Till thou canst rail the seal from off my bond, 135 
Thou but offend'st thy lungs to speak so loud : 
Repair thy wit, good youth, or it will fall 
To cureless ruin. I stand here for law. 

Duke. This letter from Bellario doth commend 
A young and learn dd doctor to our court. 140 

Where is he ? 

Ner. He attendeth here hard by, 

To know your answer, whether you'll admit him. 

Duke. With all my heart. Some three or four of 
you 
Go give him courteous conduct to this place. 
Meantime the court shall hear Bellario's letter. 145 

Clerk. [Reads] Your grace shall understand that at 
the receipt of your letter I am very sick : but in the in- 
stant that your messenger came, in loving visitation was 
with me a young doctor of Rome ; his name is Balthasar. 
I acquainted him with the cause in controversy between 
the Jew and Antonio the merchant : we turned o'er many 
books together: he is furnished with my opinion; which, 
bettered with his own learning, the greatness whereof I 
cannot enough commend, comes with him, at my impor- 
tunity, to fill up your grace's request in my stead. I be- 
seech you, let his lack of years be no impediment to let 
him lack a reverend estimation ; for I never knew so 
young a body with so old a head. I leave him to your 
gracious acceptance, whose trial shall better publish his 
commendation. 160 

Duke. You hear the learned Bellario, what he 
writes : 
And here, I take it, is the doctor come. 

68 



Act iv, Scene l. The Merchant of Venice. 



Enter Portia, dressed like a doctor of laws. 
^ive me your hand. Come you from old Bellario ? 

For. I did, my lord. 

Duke. You are welcome : take your place. 

Are you acquainted with the difference 165 

That holds this present question in the court ? 

For. I am informed throughly of the cause. 
Which is the merchant here, and which the Jew ? 

Duke. Antonio and old Shylock, both stand forth. 

For. Is your name Shylock ? 

Shy. Shylock is my name. 170 

For. Of a strange nature is the suit you follow ; 
Yet in such rule that the Venetian law 
Cannot impugn you as you do proceed. 
You stand within his danger, do you not ? 

Ant. Ay, so he says. 

For. Do you confess the bond ? 175 

Ant. I do. 

For. Then must the Jew be merciful. 

Shy. On what compulsion must I ? tell me that. 
vFor. The quality of mercy is not strained ; 
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven 
Upon the place beneath : it is twice blest ; 180 

It blesseth him that gives and him that take^ . 
'Tis mightiest in the mightiest : it becomes 
The throned monarch better than his crown ; 
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, 
The attribute to awe and majesty, 185 

Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings ; 
But mercy is above this sceptred sway ; 
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, 
It is an attribute to God himself ; 

69 



The Merchant of Venice. Act iv, Scene l. 

And earthly power doth then show likest God's 190 

When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew, 

Though justice be thy plea, consider this, 

That, in the course of justice, none of us 

Should see salvation : we do pray for mercy ; 

And that same prayer doth teach us all to render 195 

The deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much 

To mitigate the justice of thy plea ; 

Which if thou follow, this strict court of Venice 

Must needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant there. 

Shy. My deeds upon my head ! I crave the law, 200 
The penalty and forfeit of my bond. 

Por. Is he not able to discharge the money ? 

Bass. Yes, here I tender it for him in the court ; 
Yea, twice the sum : if that will not suffice, 
I will be bound to pay it ten times o'er, 205 

On forfeit of my hands, my head, my heart: 
If this will not suffice, it must appear 
That malice bears down truth. And I beseech you, 
Wrest once the law to your authority : 
To do a great right, do a little wrong, 210 

And curb this cruel devil of his will. 

Por. It must not be ; there is no power in Venice 
Can alter a decree established : 
'Twill be recorded for a precedent, 
And many an error by the same example 215 

Will rush into the state : it cannot be. 

Shy. A Daniel come to judgement! yea, a Daniel! 
O wise young judge, how I do honor thee ! , 

Por. I pray you, let me look upon the bond. 

Shy. Here 'tis, most reverend doctor, here it is. 220 

Por. Shylock, there's thrice thy money offered thee. 

70 



Act iv, Scene l. The Merchant of Venice. 

Shy. An oath, an oath, I have an oath in heaven : 
Shall I lay perjury upon my soul ? 
No, not for Venice. 

Por. Why, this bond is forfeit ; 

And lawfully by this the Jew may claim 225 

A pound of flesh, to be by him cut off 
Nearest the merchant's heart. Be merciful: 
Take thrice the money ; bid me tear the bond. 

Shy. When it is paid according to the tenor. 
It doth appear you are a worthy judge ; 230 

You know the law r , your exposition 
Hath been most sound : I charge you by the law, 
Whereof you are a well-deserving pillar, 
Proceed to judgement : by my soul I swear 
There is no power in the tongue of man 235 

To alter me : I stay here on my bond. 

Ant. Most heartily I do beseech the court 
To give the judgement. 

Por. Why then, thus it is : 

You must prepare your bosom for his knife. 

Shy. O noble judge ! O excellent young man ! 240 

Por. For the intent and purpose of the law 
Hath full relation to the penalty, 
Which here appeareth due upon the bond. 

Shy. 'Tis very true : O wise and upright judge ! 
How much more elder art thou than thy looks ! 245 

Por. Therefore lay bare your bosom. 

Shy. Ay, his breast : 

So says the bond : doth it not, noble judge ? 
" Nearest his heart : " those are the very words. 

Por. It is so. Are there balance here to weigh 
The flesh ? 

71 



The Merchant of Venice. Act iv, Scene l. 



Shy. I have them ready. 250 

Por. Have by some surgeon, Shylock, on your charge, 
To stop his wounds, lest he do bleed to death. 

Shy. Is it so nominated in the bond ? 

Por. It is not so expressed : but what of that ? 
'Twere good you do so much for charity. 255 

Shy. I cannot find it ; 'tis not in the bond. 

Por. You, merchant, have you any thing to say? 

Ant. But little : I am armed and well prepared. 
Give me your hand, Bassanio : fare you well ! 
Grieve not that I am fallen to this for you ; 260 

For herein Fortune shows herself more kind 
Than is her custom : it is still her use 
To let the wretched man outlive his wealth, 
To view with hollow eye and wrinkled brow 
An age of poverty ; from which lingering penance 265 

Of such misery doth she cut me off. 
Commend me to your honorable wife : 
Tell her the process of Antonio's end ; 
Say how I loved you, speak me fair in death ; 
And, when the tale is told, bid her be judge 270 

Whether Bassanio had not once a love. 
Repent but you that you shall lose your friend, 
And he repents not that he pays your debt ; 
For if the Jew do cut but deep enough, 
I'll pay it presently with all my heart. 275 

Bass. Antonio, I am married to a wife 
Which is as dear to me as life itself ; 
But life itself, my wife and all the world, 
Are not with me esteemed above thy life : 
I would lose all, ay, sacrifice them all 280 

Here to this devil to deliver you. 

72 






Act iv, Scene l. The Merchant of Venice. 

For. Your wife would give you little thanks for that, 
If she were by, to hear you make the offer. 

Gra. I have a wife, whom, I protest, I love : 
I would she were in heaven, so she could 285 

Entreat some power to change this currish Jew. 

Ner. Tis well you offer it behind her back ; 
The wish would make else an unquiet house. 

Shy. [Aside] These be the Christian husbands. I 
have a daughter ; 
Would any of the stock of Barrabas 290 

Had been her husband rather than a Christian ! — 
We trifle time : I pray thee, pursue sentence. 

For. A pound of that same merchant's flesh is thine : 
The court awards it, and the law doth give it. 

Shy. Most rightful judge ! 295 

For. And you must cut this flesh from off his breast: 
The law allows it, and the court awards it. 

Shy. Most learned judge ! A sentence ! Come, pre- 
pare ! 

For. Tarry a little ; there is something else. 
This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood ; 300 

The words expressly are " a pound of flesh : " 
Take then thy bond, take thou thy pound of flesh ; 
But, in the cutting it, if thou dost shed 
One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods 
Are, by the laws of Venice, confiscate 305 

Unto the state of Venice. 

Gra. O upright judge ! Mark, Jew : O learned judge ! 

Shy. Is that the law ? 

For. Thyself shall see the act : 

For, as thou urgest justice, be assured 
Thou shalt have justice, more than thou desirest. 310 

73 



The Merchant of Venice. Act iv, Scene l. 

Gra. O learned judge ! Mark, Jew : a learned judge ! 

Shy. I take this offer, then ; pay the bond thrice 
And let the Christian go. 

Bass. Here is the money. 

Por. Soft ! 
The Jew shall have all justice ; soft ! no haste : 315 

He shall have nothing but the penalty. 

Gra. O Jew! an upright judge, a learned judge ! 

Por. Therefore prepare thee to cut off the flesh. 
Shed thee no blood, nor cut thou less nor more 
But just a pound of flesh : if thou cut'st more 320 

Or less than a just pound, be it but so much 
As makes it light or heavy in the substance, 
Or the division of the twentieth part 
Of one poor scruple, nay, if the scale do turn 
But in the estimation of a hair, 325 

Thou diest and all thy goods are confiscate. 

Gra. A second Daniel, a Daniel, Jew ! 
Now, infidel, I have you on the hip. 

Por. Why doth the Jew pause ? take thy forfeiture. 

Shy. Give me my principal, and let me go. 330 

Bass. I have it ready for thee ; here it is. 

Por. He hath refused it in the open court : 
He shall have merely justice and his bond. 

Gra. A Daniel, still say I, a second Daniel ! 
I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word. 335 

Shy. Shall I not have barely my principal ? 

Por. Thou shalt have nothing but the forfeiture, 
To be so taken at thy peril, Jew. 

Shy. Why, then the devil give him good of it ! 
I'll stay no longer question. 

Por. Tarry, Jew : 340 

74 




From the painting of A. Schmit2. 

The Trial Scene 

If thou dost shed 
One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods 
Are, by the laws of Venice, confiscate 
Unto the state of Venice. — Act IV. 



Scene I. 



Act iv, Scene 1. The Merchant of Venice. 

The law hath yet another hold on you. 

It is enacted in the laws of Venice, 

If it be proved against an alien 

That by direct or indirect attempts 

He seek the life of any citizen, 345 

The party 'gainst the which he doth contrive 

Shall seize one half his goods ; the other half 

Comes to the privy coffer of the state ; 

And the offender's life lies in the mercy 

Of the duke only, 'gainst all other voice. 350 

In which predicament, I say, thou stand'st ; 

For it appears, by manifest proceeding, 

That indirectly and directly too 

Thou hast contrived against the very life 

Of the defendant ; and thou hast incurred 355 

The danger formerly by me rehearsed. 

Down therefore and beg mercy of the duke. 

Gra. Beg that thou mayst have leave to hang thy- 
self : 
And yet, thy wealth being forfeit to the state, 
Thou hast not left the value of a cord ; 360 

Therefore thou must be hanged at the state's charge. 

Duke. That thou shalt see the difference of our spirits, 
I pardon thee thy life before thou ask it : 
For half thy wealth, it is Antonio's ; 

The other half comes to the general state, 365 

Which humbleness may drive unto a fine. 

For. Ay, for the state, not for Antonio. 

Shy. Nay, take my life and all ; pardon not that : 
You take my house when you do take the prop 
That doth sustain my house ; you take my life 370 

When you do take the means whereby I live. 

75 



The Merchant of Venice. Act iv, Scene 1. 

Por. What mercy can you render him, Antonio? 

Gra. A halter gratis ; nothing else, for God's sake. 

Ant. So please my lord the duke and all the court 
To quit the fine for one half of his goods, 375 

I am content ; so he will let me have 
The other half in use, to render it, 
Upon his death, unto the gentleman 
That lately stole his daughter : 

Two things provided more, that, for this favor, 380 

He presently become a Christian ; 
The other, that he do record a gift, 
Here in the court, of all he dies possessed, 
Unto his son Lorenzo and his daughter. 

Duke. He shall do this, or else I do recant 385 

The pardon that I late pronounced here. 

Por. Art thou contented, Jew ? what dost thou 
say? 

Shy. I am content. 

Por. Clerk, draw a deed of gift. 

Shy. I pray you, give me leave to go from hence ; 
I am not well : send the deed after me, 390 

And I will sign it. 

Duke. Get thee gone, but do it, 

Gra. In christening thou shalt have two godfathers : 
Had I been judge, thou shouldst have had ten more, 
To bring thee to the gallows, not the font. 

\_Exit Shylock. 

Duke. Sir, I entreat you home with me to dinner. 395 

Por. I humbly do desire your grace of pardon : 
I must away this night toward Padua, 
And it is meet I presently set forth. 

Duke. I am sorry that your leisure serves you not. 

76 



Act iv, Scene 1. The Merchant of Venice. 

Antonio, gratify this gentleman, 400 

For, in my mind, you are much bound to him. 

\_Exeunt Duke and his train. 

Bass. Most worthy gentleman, I and my friend 
Have by your wisdom been this day acquitted 
Of grievous penalties ; in lieu whereof, 
Three thousand ducats, due unto the Jew, 405 

We freely cope your courteous pains withal. 

Ant.. 4nd stand indebted, over and above, 
In love and service to you evermore. 

Por. He is well paid that is well satisfied ; 
And I, delivering you, am satisfied 4 10 

And therein do account myself well paid : 
My mind was never yet more mercenary. 
I pray you, know me when we meet again : 
I wish you well, and so I take my leave. 

Bass. Dear sir, of force I must attempt you further : 415 
Take some remembrance of us as a tribute, 
Not as a fee : grant me two things, I pray you, 
Not to deny me, and to pardon me. 

Por. You press me far, and therefore I will yield. 
[To Ant.~\ Give me your gloves, I'll wear them for your 
sake ; 4 2 ° 

[ To Bass.~] And, for your love, I'll take this ring from you : 
Do not draw back your hand ; I'll take no more ; 
And you in love shall not deny me this. 

Bass. This ring, good sir, alas, it is a trifle ! 
I will not shame myself to give you this. 4 2 5 

Por. I will have nothing else but only this ; 
And now methinks I have a mind to it. 

Bass. There's more depends on this than on the value. 
The dearest ring in Venice will I give you, 

77 



The Merchant of Venice. Act iv, Scene 2. 

And find it out by proclamation : 430 

Only for this, I pray you, pardon me. 

Por. I see, sir, you are liberal in offers : 
You taught me first to beg ; and now methinks 
You teach me how a beggar should be answered. 

Bass. Good sir, this ring was given me by my wife ; 435 
And when she put it on, she made me vow 
That I should neither sell nor give nor lose it. 

Por. That 'scuse serves many men to save their gifts. 
An if your wife be not a mad-woman, 

And know how well I have deserved the ring, 44° 

She would not hold out enemy forever, 
For giving it to me. Well, peace be with you ! 

[Exeunt Portia and Nerissa. 

Ant. My Lord Bassanio, let him have the ring : 
Let his deservings and my love withal 
Be valued 'gainst your wife's commandment. 445 

Bass. Go, Gratiano, run and overtake him ; 
Give him the ring, and bring him, if thou canst, 
Unto Antonio's house : away! make haste. 

[Exit Gratiano. 
Come, you and I will thither presently ; 

And in the morning early will we both 45° 

Fly toward Belmont : come, Antonio. [Exeunt. 

Scene II. The same. A street. 
Enter Portia and Nerissa. 

Por. Inquire the Jew's house out, give him this deed 
And let him sign it : we'll away to-night 
And be a day before our husbands home : 
This deed will be well welcome to Lorenzo. 

78 



Act v, Scene l. The Merchant of Venice. 

Enter Gratiano. 

Gra. Fair sir, you are well o'erta'en : 5 

My Lord Bassanio upon more advice 
Hath sent you here this ring, and doth entreat 
Your company at dinner. 

Por. That cannot be : 

His ring I do accept most thankfully : 
And so, I pray you, tell him : furthermore, 10 

I pray you, show my youth old Shylock's house. 

Gra. That will I do. 

Ner. Sir, I would speak with you. 

[Aside to Por.~] I'll see if I can get my husband's ring, 
Which I did make him swear to keep forever. 

Por. \_Aside to JVer.~] Thou mayst, I warrant. 15 

We shall have old swearing 
That they did give the rings away to men ; 
But we'll outface them, and outswear them too. 
[_Aloud~\ Away ! make haste : thou know'st where I will 
tarry. 19 

Ner. Come, good sir, will you show me to this house ? 

[Exeunt. 

ACT V. 

Scene 1. Belmont. Avenue to Portia's house. 
Enter Lorenzo and Jessica. 

Lor. The moon shines bright: in such a night as 
this, 
When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees 
And they did make no noise, in such a night 
Troilus methinks mounted the Troyan walls 

79 



The Merchant of Venice. Act v, Scene 1. 

And sighed his soul toward the Grecian tents, 5 

Where Cressid lay that night. 

~Jes. In such a night 

Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew 
And saw the lion's shadow ere himself 
And ran dismayed away. 

Lor. In such a night 

Stood Dido with a willow in her hand 10 

Upon the wild sea banks and waft her love 
To come again to Carthage. 

Jes. In such a night 

Medea gathered the enchanted herbs 
That did renew old ^Eson. 

Lor. In such a night 

Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew 15 

And with an unthrift love did run from Venice 
As far as Belmont. 

Jes. In such a night 

Did young Lorenzo swear he loved her well, 
Stealing her soul with many vows of faith 
And ne'er a true one. 

Lor. In such a night 20 

Did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew, 
Slander her love, and he forgave it her. 

Jes. I would out-nigh£ you, did nobody come ; 
But, hark, I hear the footing of a man. 

Enter Stephano. 

Lor. Who comes so fast in silence of the night ? 25 

Steph. A friend. 

Lor. A friend ! what friend ? your name, I pray 
you, friend ? 

80 



Act v, Scene l. The Merchant of Venice. 

Steph. Stephano is my name : and I bring word 
My mistress will before the break of day 
Be here at Belmont : she doth stray about 30 

By holy crosses, where she kneels and prays 
For happy wedlock hours. 

Lor. Who comes with her ? 

Steph. None but a holy hermit and her maid. 
I pray you, is my master yet returned ? 

Lor. He is not, nor have we not heard from him. 35 
But go we in, I pray thee, Jessica, 
And ceremoniously let us prepare 
Some welcome for the mistress of the house. 

Enter Launcelot. 

Laun. Sola, sola ! wo ha, ho ! sola, sola ! 

Lor. Who calls ? 4° 

Laun. Sola ! did you see Master Lorenzo ? Master 
Lorenzo, sola, sola ! 

Lor. Leave hollaing, man : here. 

Laun. Sola ! where ? where ? 

Lor. Here. 45 

Laun. Tell him there's a post come from my master, 
with his horn full of good news : my master will be here 
ere morning. [Exit. 

Lor. Sweet soul, let's in, and there expect their 
coming. 
And yet no matter : why should we go in ? 5° 

My friend Stephano, signify, I pray you, 
Within the house, your mistress is at hand ; 
And bring your music forth into the air. 

\_Exit Stephano. 

8l 



The Merchant of Venice. Act v, Scene l. 

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank ! 

Here will we sit and let the sounds of music 55 

Creep in our ears : soft stillness and the night 

Become the touches of sweet harmony. 

Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven 

Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold : 

There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st 60 

But in his motion like an angel sings, 

Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins ; 

Such harmony is in immortal souls ; 

But whilst this muddy vesture of decay 

Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it. 65 

Enter Musicians. 

Come, ho ! and wake Diana with a hymn : 

With sweetest touches pierce your mistress' ear 

And draw her home with music. [Music. 

Jes. I am never merry when I hear sweet music. 

Lor. The reason is, your spirits are attentive : 7c 

For do but note a wild and wanton herd, 
Or race of youthful and unhandled colts, 
Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud, 
Which is the hot condition of their blood ; 
If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound, 75 

Or any air of music touch their ears, 
You shall perceive them make a mutual stand, 
Their savage eyes turned to a modest gaze 
By the sweet power of music : therefore the poet 
Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones and floods : 80 
Since nought so stockish, hard and full of rage, 
But music for the time doth change his nature. 
The man that hath no music in himself, 

82 



Act v, Scene l. The Merchant of Venice. 

Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, 

Is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils ; 85 

The motions of his spirit are dull as night 

And his affections dark as Erebus : 

Let no such man be trusted. Mark the music. 

Enter Portia and Nerissa. 

For. That light we see is burning in my hall. 
How far that little candle throws his beams ! 90 

So shines a good deed in a naughty world. 

Ner. When the moon shone, we did not see the candle. 

For. So doth the greater glory dim the less : 
A substitute shines brightly as a king 
Until a king be by, and then his state 95 

Empties itself, as doth an inland brook 
Into the main of waters. Music ! hark ! 

Ner. It is your music, madam, of the house. 

For. Nothing is good, I see, without respect: 
Methinks it sounds much sweeter than by day. 100 

Ner. Silence bestows that virtue on it, madam. 

For. The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark 
When neither is attended, and I think 
The nightingale, if she should sing by day, 
When every goose is cackling, would be thought 105 

No better a musician than the wren. 
How many things by season seasoned are 
To their right praise and true perfection ! 
Peace, ho ! the moon sleeps with Endymion 
And would not be awaked. [Music ceases. 

Lor. • That is the voice, no 

Or I am much deceived, of Portia. 

83 



The Merchant of Venice. Act v, Scene l. 

Por. He knows me as the blind man knows the cuckoo, 
By the bad voice. 

Lor. Dear lady, welcome home. 

Por. We have been praying for our husbands' healths, 
Which speed, we hope, the better for our words. 115 

Are they returned ? 

Lor. Madam, they are not yet ; 

But there is come a messenger before, 
To signifv their coming. 

Por. Go in, Nerissa ; 

Give order to my servants that they take 
No note at all of our being absent hence ; 120 

Nor you, Lorenzo ; Jessica, nor you. [A tucket sounds. 

Lor. Your husband is at hand ; I hear his trumpet : 
We are no tell-tales, madam ; fear you not. 

Por. This night methinks is but the daylight sick ; 
It looks a little paler : 'tis a day 125 

Such as the day is when the sun is hid. 

Enter Bassanio, Antonio, Gratiano, and their 
followers. 

Bass. We should hold day with the Antipodes, 
If you would walk in absence of the sun. 

Por. Let me give light, but let me not be light ; 
For a light wife doth make a heavy husband, 130 

And never be Bassanio so for me : 
But God sort all ! You are welcome home, my lord. 

Bass. I thank you, madam. Give welcome to my 
friend. 
This is the man, this is Antonio, 
To whom I am so infinitely bound. 135 

84 



Act v, Scene l. The Merchant of Venice. 

Por. You should in all sense be much bound to him, 
For, as I hear, he was much bound for you. 

Ant. No more than I am well acquitted of. 

Por. Sir, you are very welcome to our house : 
It must appear in other ways than words, 140 

Therefore I scant this breathing courtesy. 

Gra. \_To 2Ver.~] By yonder moon I swear you do me 
wrong ; 
In faith, I gave it to the judge's clerk. 

Por. A quarrel, ho, already ! what's the matter ? 

Gra. About a hoop of gold, a paltry ring 145 

That she did give ine, whose posy was 
For all the world like cutler's poetry 
Upon a knife, " Love me, and leave me not." 

Ner. What talk you of the posy or the value ? 
You swore to me, when I did give it you, 150 

That you would wear it till your hour of death 
And that it should lie with you in your grave : 
Though not for me, yet for your vehement oaths, 
You should have been respective and have kept it. 
Gave it a judge's clerk ! no, God's my judge, 155 

The clerk will ne'er wear hair on 's face that had it. 

Gra. He will, an if he live to be a man. 

Ner. Ay, if a woman live to be a man. 

Gra. Now, by this hand, I gave it to a youth, 
A kind of boy, a little scrubbed boy, 160 

No higher than thyself, the judge's clerk, 
A prating boy, that begged it as a fee : 
I could not for my heart deny it him. 

Por. You were to blame, I must be plain with you, 
To part so slightly with your wife's first gift ; 165 

A thing stuck on with oaths upon your finger 

85 



The Merchant of Venice. Act v, Scene l. 

And so riveted with faith unto your flesh. 

I gave my love a ring and made him swear 

Never to part with it ; and here he stands ; 

I dare be sworn for him he would not leave it 170 

Nor pluck it from his finger, for the wealth 

That the world masters. Now, in faith, Gratiano, 

You give your wife too unkind a cause of grief : 

An 'twere to me, I should be mad at it. 

Bass. \_Aside\ Why, I were best to cut my left hand 
off 175 

And swear I lost the ring defending it. 

Gra. My Lord Bassanio gave his ring away 
Unto the judge that begged it and indeed 
Deserved it too ; and then the boy, his clerk, 
That took some pains in writing, he begged mine 180 

And neither man nor master would take aught 
But the two rings. 

Por. What ring gave you, my lord ? 

Not that, I hope, which you received of me. 

Bass. If I could add a lie unto a fault, 
I would deny it ; but you see my finger 185 

Hath not the ring upon it ; it is gone. 

Por. Even so void is your false heart of truth. 

Bass. Sweet Portia, 
If you did know to whom I gave the ring, 
If you did know for whom I gave the ring 190 

And would conceive for what I gave the ring 
And how unwillingly I left the ring, 
When nought would be accepted but the ring, 
You would abate the strength of your displeasure. 

Por. If you had known the virtue of the ring, 195 

Or half her worthiness that gave the ring, 

86 



Act v, Scene l. The Merchant of Venice. 



Or your own honor to contain the ring, 

You would not then have parted with the ring. 

What man is there so much unreasonable, 

If you had pleased to have defended it 200 

With any terms of zeal, wanted the modesty 

To urge the thing held as a ceremony ? 

Nerissa teaches me what to believe : 

I'll die for't but some woman had the ring. 

Bass. No, by my honor, madam, by my soul, 205 

No woman had it, but a civil doctor, 
Which did refuse three thousand ducats of me 
And begged the ring ; the which I did deny him 
And suffered him to go displeased away ; 
Even he that did uphold the very life 210 

Of my dear friend. What should I say, sweet lady ? 
I was enforced to send it after him ; 
I was beset with shame and courtesy ; 
My honor would not let ingratitude 

So much besmear it Pardon me, good lady ; 215 

For, by these blessed candles of the night, 
Had you been there, I think you would have begged 
The ring of me to give the worthy doctor. 

For. Let not that doctor e'er come near my house : 
Since he hath got the jewel that I loved, 220 

And that which you did swear to keep for me, 
I will become as liberal as you ; 
I'll not deny him any thing I have. 

Ner. Nor I his clerk ; therefore be well advised 
How you do leave me to mine own protection. 225 

Gra. Well, do you so : let not me take him, then ; 
For if I do, I'll mar the young clerk's pen. 

Ant. I am the unhappy subject of these quarrels. 

87 



The Merchant of Venice. Act v, Scene 1. 

Por. Sir, grieve not you ; you are welcome notwith- 
standing. 

Bass. Portia, forgive me this enforced wrong 230 

And, in the hearing of these many friends, 
I swear to thee, even by thine own fair eyes, 
Wherein I see myself — 

Por. Mark you but that ! 

In both my eyes he doubly sees himself ; 
In each eye, one : swear by your double self, 235 

And there's an oath of credit. 

Bass. Nay, but hear me : 

Pardon this fault, and by my soul I swear 
I never more will break an oath with thee. 

Ant. I once did lend my body for his wealth ; 
Which, but for him that had your husband's ring, 240 

Had quite miscarried : I dare be bound again, 
My soul upon the forfeit, that your lord 
Will never more break faith advisedly. 

Por. Then you shall be his surety. Give him this 
And bid him keep it better than the other. 245 

Ant. Here, Lord Bassanio ; swear to keep this ring. 

Bass. By heaven, it is the same I gave the doctor 1 

Por. You are all amazed : 
Here is a letter ; read it at your leisure ; 
It comes from Padua, from Bellario : 250 

There you shall find that Portia was the doctor, 
Nerissa there her clerk : Lorenzo here 
Shall witness I set forth as soon as you 
And even but now returned ; I have not yet 
Entered my house. Antonio, you are welcome, 255 

And I have better news in store for you 
Than you expect : unseal this letter soon ; 

88 



Act v, Scene l. The Merchant of Venice. 

There you shall find three of your argosies 

Are richly come to harbor suddenly : 

You shall not know by what strange accident 260 

I chanced on this letter. 

Ant. I am dumb. 

Bass. Were you the doctor and I knew you not ? 

Ant. Sweet lady, you have given me life and living ; 
For here I read for certain that my ships 
Are safely come to road. 

For. How now, Lorenzo ! 265 

My clerk hath some good comforts too for you. 

Ner. Ay, and I'll give them him without a fee. 
There do I give to you and Jessica, 
From the rich Jew, a special deed of gift, 
After his death, of all he dies possessed of. 270 

Lor. Fair ladies, you drop manna in the way 
Of starved people. 

For. It is almost morning, 

And yet I am sure you are not satisfied 
Of these events at full. Let us go in ; 
And charge us there upon inter'gatories, 275 

And we will answer all things faithfully. 

Gra. Well, while I live I'll fear no other thing 
So sore as keeping safe Nerissa's ring. \_Exeunt. 



89 



A LIST OF THE PERSONS OF THE DRAMA, WITH THE 
SCENES IN WHICH THEY APPEAR. 

Antonio I, i, 3; II, 6; III, 3; IV, 1; V, 1. 

Salarino. . . . . . I, 1 ; II, 4, 6, 8; III, 1, 3. 

Salanio I, 1; II, 3, 8; III, 1. 

Bassanio I, 1, 3; II, 1 ; III, 2; IV, 1; V, I. 

Lorenzo I, 1; II, 4, 6; III, 2, 4, 5; V, 1. 

Gratiano I, 1; II, 2, 4, 6; III, 2; IV, 1, 2; V, 1. 

Servant I, 2; II, 9; III, 1. 

Shylock I, 3; II, 5; III, 1, 3; IV, 1. 

Morocco . . . . •. . II, 1, 7. 

Launcelot II, 2, 3, 4, 5 ; III, 5 ; V, I. 

Old Gobbo II, 2. 

Leonardo II, 2. 

Arragon . . ' . . . . II, 9. 

Tubal Ill, 1. 

Musician Ill, 2. 

Salerio ...... Ill, 2; IV, 1. 

Balthasar Ill, 4. 

Duke IV, 1. 

Stephano . . . . . V, 1. 

Portia I, 2; II, 1, 7, 9; III, 2, 4; IV, 1, 2; V, 1. 

Nerissa I, 2; II, 9; 111,2,4; IV, 1, 2; V, 1. 

Jessica ...... II, 3, 6, 7; III, 2, 4, 5; V, 1. 

/ 



90 



APPENDIX, NOTES, AND 
SUBJECTS FOR COMPOSITION 



APPENDIX 

THE WRITING AND PUBLICATION OF THE 
MERCHANT OF VENICE 

Shakespeare produced his plays and poems during a 

period of about twenty years, which is almost equally 

divided by the close of the 16th century. 

"The Merchant of Venice " may be assigned Tmt pl i Ce ° f 

J te " The Mer- 

to the middle of the first half of this period, chant of 
and is therefore to be considered as one of Venice " in 
the poet's earlier, but not earliest, dramas. It sliake - 
had been preceded by nearly all his inferior wor ^ s 
comedies, and also by "A Midsummer Night's 
Dream." The inferior histories had already appeared, 
and with them " King John " and " Richard III." But all 
the greatest comedies, the greatest histories, and all the 
tragedies, with the exception of " Romeo and Juliet," were 
yet to be written. 

As is the case with many of Shakespeare's plays, we find 
an early record of " The Merchant of Venice " in the 
Register of the Stationers' Company. This 
famous old organization, incorporated in 1556, license to 
for nearly three hundred years regulated the print "The 
publication of books in England. In fact, it Merchant of 
was the official method, in Queen Elizabeth's 
reign, of granting a license to a publisher. On its records 
we find this interesting entry for July 22, 1598: — "A 
booke of the Marchaunt of Venyse, or otherwise called 

91 



Appendix. 

the Jewe of Venyse. Provided that yt bee not prynted 
by the said James Robertes, or anye other whatsoever, 
without lycence first had from the right honourable the 
Lord Chamberlain." Now we know that Shakespeare be- 
longed to the company of players called the Lord Cham- 
berlain's Servants, and for them he wrote some of his 
earlier comedies. Therefore when James Roberts secured 
a license to print " The Merchant of Venice," the managers 
of this company hastened to have an order added prohibit- 
ing its publication until their patron, who was a powerful 
noble, should give his permission. Such restrictions, or 
orders "to be stayed," as they were called, were not un- 
common in Shakespeare's time. If a drama was still 
popular on the stage, actors, manager, and author did 
their best to keep it out of print, evidently fearing that 
the play in book form would hurt attendance at the 
theatre. 

Two years passed before permission was granted to 
issue "The Merchant of Venice." On October 28, 1600, 

_, it was again entered on the Stationers' Regis- 

The first b ° 

editions of ter > an d a few weeks later it was published by 

" The Mer- Thomas Heyes with this elaborate title-page, 
chant of 

The most excellent 

Historie of the Merchant 

of Venice. 

With the extreame crueltie of Shylocke the Iewe 

towards the sayd Merchant, in cutting a iust pound 

of his flesh : and the obtayning of Portia 

by the choyse of three 

chests. As it hath bee?ie divers times acted 

by the Lord Chamberlaine his Servants. 

92 



Venice.' 



■Publication. 

Written by William Shakespeare, 

at London, 

Printed by I. R., for Thomas Heyes 

and are to be sold in Paules Church-yard, at the 

signe of the Greene Dragon. 

1600. 

In the same year James Roberts issued another edition 
with a title-page somewhat different, but none the less 
quaint. These were both thin, paper-bound pamphlets 
called " Quartos." 

As far as we know, "The Merchant of Venice" was 
not printed again in the poet's life-time. It next appeared 
in the Folio of 1623 (see page 141), where it was j ts pi ace 
published with the rest of his plays by his two in the First 
friends and fellow-actors, Heminge and Con- Folio - 
dell. Here it stands in the ninth place, between two 
others of the dramatist's most charming comedies, " A 
Midsummer Night's Dream " and " As You Like It." It 
is very evidently a reprint, with some alterations, of the 
quarto issued by Heyes in 1600. 

How long before the Stationers' entry of 1598 Shake- 
speare wrote " The Merchant of Venice " no one can tell 
with absolute certainty. The precise date of 
composition of the poet's works has always g^^g 
been a puzzling problem to scholars. Every speare 
bit of evidence has been weighed and dis- wrote the 
cussed, and yet this play has been assigned by p ay " 
different critics to all of the years between 1592 and 1598. 
However, that it could not have been written later than 
the end of 1597 seems certain from two bits of external 

93 



Appendix. . 

evidence. First, there is the entry in the Stationers' Reg- 
ister of July, 1598. Then earlier in the same year Fran- 
cis Meres published his " Palladis Tamia," or "Wit's 
Treasury," in which he mentions six comedies of Shake- 
speare that entitle him to rank with the Roman Plautus. 
The last of these six is "The Merchant of Venice." 
Those who place the date of composition earlier than 
1594 base their argument chiefly upon a reference in the 
account-book of Philip Henslowe, under date of August 25, 
1594, to the performance of a new play, the " Venesyon 
Comodey." There is no proof, however, that this was 
Shakespeare's work. As a matter of fact, both in style 
and construction " The Merchant " much more closely 
resembles "As You Like it" and "Twelfth Night" than 
it does the earlier comedies. By the last years of the 
1 6th century the poet had overcome the faults of his 
apprenticeship work. He had finally settled the metric 
forms which he was to use during the course of his poetic 
activity. He had learned how to adapt plays to the stage 
so as to touch the imagination of spectators. He had 
mastered the art of portraying character, and he had de- 
veloped, — though he was to develop still further, — that 
wonderful diction which made him the supreme poet of 
the English language. These later developments of meter, 
imaginative force, character-drawing, and poetic diction 
all appear in "The Merchant of Venice," so that it seems 
safe to assign it to the year 1597, or 1596 at the very 
earliest. 



94 



STORIES WHICH SHAKESPEARE USED IN THE 
MERCHANT OF VENICE 

Young persons studying a Shakespearian play for the 
first time are often surprised, and sometimes even dis- 
tressed, to learn that the stories of the drama- 
tist's works were not original with him. Origd- O ri g inall ty 

,. r i i , , • r . . of plot un- 

nality or plot seems to them the chief requisite i mpor tant 

of greatness ; a worker in second-hand material 
falls under their scorn ; they begin to wonder just why 
this borrower of other men's ideas has been rated so 
highly and so profoundly admired by their elders. This is 
not strange. Action, movement, complication of events, — 
all that goes to make up a plot, — is interesting and there- 
fore important to boys and girls. They are naturally 
more concerned with what the hero does, than how he does 
it, or how he talks, or what he is like. Moreover, in our 
novel-reading, inventive age, — in our age of " movies " 
and of everything new and startling, — it is not surprising 
that false values are given to things just because they are 
original. It is difficult even for mature people to see that 
originality of plot in story or play is really the least im- 
portant element in the final test of its worth. They must 
be reminded that any one with a little clever inventive- 
ness can work out a complicated and entirely new series 
of events. Thousands of short stories and novels appear 
every year in our magazines with plots that are skilfully 
woven and often remarkably original. Beyond that they 
have nothing to recommend them, so that after a mo- 
ment's curiosity to see " how they come out," they are 
completely neglected and soon forgotten. The fact that 

95 



Appendix. 

in plot and action they are " something new " and clever 

gives them no claim whatsoever to the enduring fame of 

literature. 

It is therefore not a sign of weakness or of a shallow 

mind to find Shakespeare making use of material already 

at his disposal. On the contrary, it is evi- 
Snake— , 

speare not dence of wisdom and good judgment. He 

a writer of was above bothering his head with new plots 
original to amuse hi s audiences. All his mind and 
skill and strength were needed for more essen- 
tial things. Old plays, Italian novels, Plutarch's Lives, 
chronicles of English history, furnished him with incidents 
and characters with which to work. The best elements of 
these he skilfully chose, made over, and combined ; but 
next to nothing did he himself invent. The force of his 
wonderful genius was spent in drawing character so clearly 
and so true to human nature that the men and women of 
his plays became distinct personalities that have lived 
now for three hundred years in the hearts of the people. 
Falstaif, Portia, Shylock, Rosalind, Hamlet, Desdemona, 
Macbeth, Juliet, Lear, — these are as real as any who 
have lived in the annals of history. Then again, the lan- 
guage and the poetry of the plays, the sentiments, the wit, 
and above all the artistic blending of thought and charac- 
ter and action, are his and his alone. The sources of the 
stories which Shakespeare used no one ever reads. They 
are commonplace, flat, and unworthy of our interest. Yet 
these same stories remoulded, polished, and filled with the 
inspiration of Shakespeare's genius, have become master- 
pieces of literature. 

It is well that Shakespeare was not attracted to the in- 
venting of elaborate and original plots, for he must have 

9 6 



Stones Used. 

been busy enough as it was. In their demand for novelty 
in stage attractions audiences then required a new play, 
on an average, every sixteen or seventeen Ad van tages 
days. Intense rivalry existed between the of using old 
various companies of actors. In their struggle material 
for popularity, which meant their daily bread, y 

playwrights turned off their work with astonishing rapid- 
ity. Thus in the twenty years of his London activity 
Shakespeare wrote, in whole or in part, about forty plays. 
r Driven by the necessity of speed on the one hand, and 
by anxiety to catch the popular fancy on the other, is it 
any wonder that he never stopped to devise a plot ? What 
need was there that he should do so ? The manager of 
the company had many an old play which, at one time or 
another, had been submitted to the test of public ap- 
proval. . . . To such plays, if selected for revision, a cer- 
tain amount of popularity was thus assured in advance ; 
and as for the plot, — the barest skeleton sufficed for 
Shakespeare. He knew that he could remodel it into fair 
proportions and relume it with life. Of all that goes to 
make up one of his dramas, the plot in itself, in its mere 
outlines, is of less importance than any other element in 
it. Of course, in the nature of things, it is not to be sup- 
posed that after he had selected the old play to be re- 
juvenated he either adhered to it closely, or refused hints 
from other sources. Old ballads, books of travels, histo- 
ries, the gossip of the day, — all were put under contribu- 
tion. As Emerson says : ' Every master has found his 
materials collected, and his power lay in his sympathy 
with his people, and in his love for the materials he 
wrought in.' " 1 

1 Dr. H. H. Furness : New Variorum Edition, " Merchant of Venice." 

97 



Appendix. 

The two stories that lie at the foundation of " The Mer- 
chant of Venice," — the story of the caskets and the story 
g f of the pound of flesh, — had long existed in 

the two sto- European fiction. From time to time they 
riesin"The had been retold by various authors in Italy 

ere an anc j - n ^ e East until, as Dr. Hudson says, 

of Venice." ' J ' 

" Shakespeare spoilt them for further use." 

Both of them are found in the " Gesta Romanorum," or 

" Deeds of the Romans," an old collection of tales and 

fables which had been translated from the original Latin 

into English long before the poet's time. It is possible 

that Shakespeare made use of this book when writing 

his play, though it seems more likely that he had in 

mind the incidents as they were told in a collection 

of stories by Ser Giovanni Fiorentino, known as "II 

Pecorone." 

This was first published at Venice in 1558. The trans- 
lations of Italian novels, which flooded England at this 
time, were favorite sources of plots with Shakespeare and 
his fellow-dramatists. It is probable, therefore, that he 
had read " II Pecorone "in an English version and used 
it freely when constructing " The Merchant of Venice." 

The story according to Ser Giovanni Fiorentino is 
briefly as follows : There is living " at Belmonte " a beau- 
The story tiful and rich young lady who is to be won 
in "II only under certain peculiar and very difficult 

Pecorone. conditions. A young adventurer, Giannetto 
by name, falls in love with her, and after two voyages to 
Belmonte, and two fruitless attempts to win her, he is be- 
friended by her maid, — the Nerissa of our play, — and at 
last is successful in meeting the test. Then with rejoicing 
and merry-making he is married to the beautiful heiress. 

98 



Stories Used. 

Meanwhile his godfather, Ansaldo, who is a wealthy mer- 
chant of Venice, in order to fit out a ship for the third 
voyage of his young friend, has borrowed ten thousand 
ducats of a Jew and bound himself to sacrifice a pound 
of his flesh if he does not repay the money at a certain 
time specified in the bond. Now in the happiness of his 
marriage Giannetto forgets all about Ansaldo, and is only 
accidentally reminded of his good friend's plight just a 
day before the bond is due. The Jew is about to cut the 
pound of flesh when Ansaldo is saved from the cruel miser 
by Giannetto 's bride, who, disguised as a lawyer, arrives 
in Venice just in time for the trial. By the same tricks 
which Portia uses she turns the scales of justice in favor 
of the merchant. On her return to Belmonte the next day 
she discloses her part in the proceedings by showing her 
husband a ring which she had persuaded him to give her 
as a reward at the close of the trial. 

The similarity of this old Italian tale to the main plot 
of Shakespeare's comedy is indeed striking. The princi- 
pal change made by the poet is in the method 
f i • . ™ • • ; i , ^ • The story 

by which Portia is won, for the test that Gian- f thecas- 

netto had to meet in "II Pecorone " was im- ketsinthe 
possible to use on the stage. The substitution " Gesta Bo- 
which he made can be clearly traced to the story 
of Anselm, Emperor of Rome, in the " Gesta Romanorum." 
The only son of the emperor has been betrothed to the 
beautiful daughter of the King of Naples, but the ship 
which is conveying the princess to Rome is wrecked in 
a fearful storm and all on board except the maiden are 
drowned. While she is in the water and about to perish, 
like Jonah in the old story she is swallowed by a huge 
whale. Fortunately she is armed with a short dagger, 

< 99 



Appendix. 

which she uses so effectively that the monster in agony 
makes for the shore. There he is slain by a knight who 
rescues the princess and conducts her at once to the Em- 
peror. So far there is little in the fable that a dramatist 
could use on the stage. But when the Emperor wishes to 
put the young lady to a test to make sure that she is really 
of noble blood and not a common adventuress, he sets 
before her three vessels, or chests, — one of gold, one of 
silver, and one of lead. On the first is written these words : 
" Whoso chooseth me shall find what he deserveth." It is 
a beautiful casket, set with precious jewels, " fair and rich 
to look upon," but inside it contains only dead men's 
bones. On the second is inscribed the motto : " Whoso 
chooseth me shall find what his nature desireth." The 
silver of this vessel is cunningly wrought with glittering 
figures, yet it is filled with earth and worms. On the 
third, which is of dull and unattractive lead, are the 
words : " Whoso chooseth me shall find what God has dis- 
posed to him." Then the Emperor says to the princess: 
" Choose thou, fair lady, among these several caskets. If 
thou tak'st that one that will profit both thyself and others, 
then shalt thou wed my son." Carefully she examines 
the chests, and thoughtfully weighs the meaning of the 
mottoes. At last she chooses the leaden casket, where- 
upon she is married to the prince with pomp and cere- 
mony and great rejoicing. Here, then, is the story which, 
with some slight alterations, Shakespeare added to the 
tale of Giannetto, Ansaldo, and the pound of flesh to make 
his " Merchant of Venice." 

There were undoubtedly other stories, and other forms 
of these two fables, which Shakespeare knew and con- 
sciously or unconsciously used when writing his comedy. 

IOO 



of " Gernu- 
tus." 



Stories Used. 

For instance, it has been suggested that the part of 

Jessica, and her elopement with the Christian Lorenzo, 

come from another Italian novel by one Mas- 

succio di Salerno. Moreover, there is an old mM . MM nf 

' sources of 

ballad, of uncertain date, that may have contrib- the play : 
uted something. It is entitled "The Cruelty the ballad 
of Gernutus, a Jew, who, lending to a Merchant 
a hundred Crowns, would have a pound of 
flesh, because he could not pay him at the day appointed." 
It is too long and not of sufficient interest to give here in 
full ; but a few stanzas will serve to show that either the 
ballad was written by one who knew the play, or, what is 
more probable, that Shakespeare had read the poem so 
recently that a few of its phrases stuck in his mind and 
were used unconsciously by him in his drama. 

No penny for the loan of it 

For one year you shall pay : 
You may do me as good a turn, 

Before my dying day. 

But we will have a merry jest 

For to be talked long : 
You shall make me a bond, quoth he, 

That shall be large and strong. 

And this shall be the forfeiture, '■ — 

Of your own flesh a pound : 
If you agree, make you the bond, 

And here is a hundred crowns. 



Some offer'd for his hundred crowns 
Five hundred for to pay ; 

IOI 



Appendix. 

And some a thousand, two, or three, 
Yet still he did denay. 

And, at the last, ten thousand crowns 

They offer'd, him to save : 
Gernutus said, I will no gold, — 

My forfeit I will have. 

The bloody Jew now ready is, 

With whetted blade in hand, 
To spoil the blood of innocent, 
By forfeit of his bond. 

And, as he was about to strike 

In him the deadly blow, 
Stay, quOth the judge, thy cruelty, — 

I charge thee to do so. 

Sith needs thou wilt thy forfeit have, 

Which is of flesh a pound, 
See that thou shed no drop of blood, 

Nor yet the man confound. 

Another source that may have supplied Shakespeare 

with a hint or two is Marlowe's "Jew of Malta." This 

bloody tragedy, though acted as early as 1590, 

taken from was s ^ a popular play on the stage when 

Marlowe's " The Merchant " was being written. That 

" Jew of the two men were close friends, and that Mar- 
Malta " 

lowe influenced Shakespeare's style, we know. 

The similarity of certain passages in the two plays seems 
to show that the great poet quite consciously made use 
of his fellow dramatist's work. The resemblances, how- 
ever, are slight. To be sure, the chief characters of each 

I02 



Stones Used. 

are Jews who are usurers and misers. Each is a widower 
with a single daughter who becomes a Christian. But 
here the similarity ends. " Shy lock," writes Charles Lamb, 
" in the midst of his savage purpose is a man. His motives, 
feelings, resentments, have something human in them. ' If 
you wrong us, shall we not revenge ? ' Barabas is a mere 
monster, brought in with a large, painted nose to please 
the rabble. He kills in sport, poisons whole nunneries, in- 
vents infernal machines. He is just such an exhibition as, 
a century or two earlier, might have been played before 
the Londoners by the Royal Command, when a general 
pillage and massacre of the Hebrews had been resolved 
on by the Cabinet." 

The famous passage in "The Jew of Malta," which 
Shakespeare must have had in mind when writing Act II, 
Scene 8 of "The Merchant," is given in full on page 234. 
'The poet may have gained still further inspiration for 
his Shylock from the character and tragic experiences of 
one of the chief London physicians of his time. Dr i, p ez 
Dr. Lopez, a wealthy Spanish Jew, was hanged and Shy- 
in 1594 on the charge of plotting to poison lock - 
Queen Elizabeth. The trial and execution of this foreigner, 
who was supposed to be in the employment of England's 
arch enemy, King Philip of Spain, aroused the populace 
to a frenzy of hatred against the Jews. A wide-awake 
dramatist like Shakespeare, in his effort to appeal to the 
people, would naturally portray on the stage some of the 
characteristics of this Spanish physician. Popular preju- 
dice and passion demanded that Jews be pictured as cruel, 
miserly, and blood-thirsty villains. Undoubtedly Shylock 
reminded the audience most forcibly of the hated Di\ 
Lopez, especially when we remember that one of the 

103 



Appendix. 

charges against him was an attempt to poison not only the 
Queen, but a certain Portuguese gentleman living in Lon- 
don whose name was Antonio. 

Sixteen or seventeen years before Shakespeare wrote 
"The Merchant of Venice," — in 1579, to be exact, — an 

., , . Oxford student, Stephen Gosson by name, pub- 
Possible m- 11 
fluence of Hshed a book called "The Schoole of Abuse," 

an earlier in which he bitterly attacks the poets and play- 
play, " The wr iprhts of his time. In the course of his tirade 
Jew.'" 

he mentions a few plays that are worthy of 

praise, among them " The Jew . . . shown at the Bull 
. . . representing the greedinesse of worldly chusers and 
bloody mindes of usurers." If these words refer to the 
stories of the caskets and the pound of flesh, then it seems 
that the old legends of " II Pecorone " and the " Gesta 
Romanorum " had been combined and worked up into 
dramatic form long before Shakespeare thought of " The 
Merchant of Venice." Furthermore, he may have used 
this old play, "The Jew," and not the Italian novels as 
the foundation of his comedy. Indeed, this is highly prob- 
able. Retouching and making over old plays was then a 
common practice. Shakespeare's intimate relations with 
the theatre as an actor would give him access to many of 
these earlier works in their manuscript form. As a matter 
of fact, several of his very greatest plays have been traced 
to dramatic compositions of preceding years. No copy, 
however, of " The Jew " has ever been found ; so that we 
shall never know how far Shakespeare adapted the Italian 
tales to his own use, or how far the material had already 
been worked over and arranged by an unknown earlier 
dramatist. 

What, then, is left of " The Merchant of Venice " that 

104 



Stories Used. 

we may safely attribute to Shakespeare? Of the plot there 

seems to be very little. Morocco, Arragon, 

Launcelot and his father, Gratiano, — these, to «TheMer- 

be sure, are his creation ; and so is everything chant of 

in the play that makes it a work of art and a Venice " is 

masterpiece of literature. The language, the ~, , 

r . . speares? 

poetry, the lines that have become familiar 

quotations ; the wit, the pathos, and the imaginative power ; 

the reflection and comment upon life ; the skilful and 

charming portrayal of human character, — indeed, all that 

makes the comedy worth reading, and all that has kept it 

alive on the stage, is the product of Shakespeare's mind 

and his alone. The sources from which he drew are 

therefore of little consequence. Except to the student of 

the poet's methods they are of no interest to-day ; whereas 

the play, which Shakespeare's genius made out of them, 

lives and gives pleasure to young and old in the twentieth 

century, as it did in the days of Queen Elizabeth three 

hundred years ago. 



*°5 



TIME DURATION OF THE MERCHANT OF VENICE 

It may be interesting to consider again just when the various 
scenes of the play take place in relation to each other ; for when 
we stop to think of it, — but only then, — Shylock's bond offers 
a puzzling problem. According to the most commonly accepted 
computations, the action of the drama covers seven or perhaps 
eight days, as follows : 

First day. The three scenes of Act I. 

Second day. The first seven scenes of Act II. (There may 
possibly be an interval of a day or two between Acts I and II.) 

Third day. Scenes 8 and 9 of Act II. (These occur evi- 
dently the day following the earlier scenes of the act.) 

Fourth day. Scene 1 of Act III'. (How long an interval 
passes both before and after this scene it is hard to determine.) 

Fifth day. The second, third, and fourth scenes of Act III. 

Sixth day. Scene 5 of Act III and the trial of Act IV. 

Seventh day. Act V. (This scene laps over into the morn- 
ing of the eighth day.) 

So far the time-arrangement of the play is a simple matter. 
But how shall we account for the three months' term of the bond ? 
You remember the conversation between Shylock and Bassanio 
at the beginning of Scene 3 in Act I : 

Shy. Three thousand ducats ; well. 

Bass. Ay, sir, for three months. 

Shy. For three months ; well. 

Bass. For the which, as I told you, Antonio shall be bound. 

Then the "merry sport" of the pound of flesh is discussed. 
Antonio agrees to the terms of the bond, and Shylock goes to 
" purse the ducats straight ,1 for the merchant. As soon as Bas- 
sanio has the money he makes hasty preparations for the journey, 
and from all indications sets sail for Belmont the evening after 

I06 



Time Duration. 

the interview with the Jew. Furthermore, Portia's words at the 
opening of III, 2 seem to show that he has but just arrived : 

For. I pray thee, tarry ; pause a day or two 
Before you hazard. . . . 

I would detain you here some month or two 
Before you venture for me. 

Such sentiments as these would certainly not be appropriate 
had Bassanio been with her more than a few hours or a day at 
the most ; yet at the close of this same scene, after the choice of 
the caskets has been made, Salerio arrives from Venice with the 
news of Antonio's plight. In his letter the merchant says, . . . 
" my ships have all miscarried, my creditors grow cruel, my 
estate is very low, my bond to the Jew is forfeit " Where have 
the three months gone ? 

It is barely possible, though extremely unlikely, that Shake- 
speare forgot all about the terms of the bond as he wrote them 
down in Act I. Of course we may imagine, as some have sug- 
gested we must, that after the first talk about the ducats other 
arrangements were made, so that when the bond was actually 
signed a much shorter time had been agreed upon by Shylock 
and Antonio. Indeed, there seems to have been some tamper- 
ing with the original terms. Thus, in Act I, we heard nothing 
definite about the part of Antonio's body from which the pound 
of flesh should be taken. But at the trial, when reading evi- 
dently the words of the bond, Portia says, . . . 

" Why, this bond is forfeit ; 
And lawfully by this the Jew may claim 
A pound of flesh, to be by him cut off 

Nearest the merchant" 1 s heart. ," 

A shortening of the term, however, to a few days, or a week 
at the most, seems wholly unreasonable when we remember the 
uncertainty of Antonio's " ventures " and the penalty of the 
forfeit. Moreover, such an important change in the conditions 
of the bond would certainly be mentioned somewhere else in the 

IO7 



Appendix. 

play. All things considered, the three months of the original 
agreement must stand. 

Two other explanations of this time problem in "The Mer- 
chant of Venice " have been frequently advanced. There are 
those who say that Bassanio has been at Belmont a long time 
when we first see him about to make his choice. In spite of 
Portia's words, " I would detain you here some month or two," 
they argue that the intimacy between the lovers, which is ap- 
parent throughout the scene, and also the friendship of Gratiano 
and Nerissa, could not be the result of a short acquaintance. 
Everything in their actions and speech, according to these critics, 
implies that they have been in each other's company many 
times before this scene of the caskets. There are other critics 
who declare that it is more probable to imagine Bassanio de- 
tained at least the greater part of the three months in Venice, 
making elaborate preparations for his journey to Belmont. Both 
explanations are far from satisfactory. Bassanio is not the sort 
of man who would dally away nearly three months in prepara- 
tions that could easily be made in a day ; nor is it easy to think 
of him living in doubt and uncertainty, "on the rack," as he 
himself says, for so long a time after his arrival at Belmont. In 
either case, a long interval detracts from our liking for Bassanio 
and from our interest in the play as a whole. Instinctively, we 
feel that Shakespeare intended us to include the departure of 
Bassanio and Gratiano from Venice, and the winning of Portia 
and Nerissa, all within two or three days at the most. Is there 
no simpler and more natural way in which we can account for 
the three months ? 

As long ago as the middle of the last century Professor Wilson 
announced what he called his "great discovery," namely, that 
Shakespeare often makes use of two different computations of 
time in the same play. By one of these hours and days are pro- 
tracted ; by the other weeks and months are contracted into 
shorter intervals. This double time, or " Short Time " and 
" Long Time," as he calls them, Professor Wilson applies to 
" Othello. " Here the actual duration of action in the last act 

108 



Time Duration. 

is only a little more than thirty-six hours. During this short 
time there comes over Othello a " gradual change from intense 
love to a murderous frenzy of jealousy," in which he kills his 
innocent young wife. This great change demands, of course, 
the passing of weeks or even months, yet it is compressed into 
minutes and hours. So skilfully, however, does the dramatist 
manage things that the impression somehow is given of a long 
interval of time, so that we do not detect any improbability what- 
soever. Indeed, it seems to us as we see or read the play that 
" events have followed their natural, orderly course.' 1 x 

In "The Merchant of Venice 11 we evidently have another 
illustration of this use of double time. That the bond, and the 
penalty of a pound of flesh, may seem probable it is necessary to 
have it cover a long term. The result is the " three months " of 
Bassanio 1 s conversation with Shylock in Act I. This is the 
" Long Time " of the play. The " Short Time 11 is the seven or 
eight days of the main action, from the borrowing of the ducats 
to the explanation of the rings in Portia's garden. The two do 
not seem incongruous or impossible simply because Shakespeare 
has artfully stretched out the week so that it really seems much 
longer. Many things contribute, all very subtly, to this lengthen- 
ing effect. One is the episode of the masque and Jessica^ elope- 
ment which comes wholly between the signing of the bond and 
the arrival of Bassanio and Gratiano at Belmont. Another is 
the choosing of the caskets, on separate occasions, by Morocco 
and Arragon. . Still another is the business with Launcelot, and 
the suggestion of time passing while Bassanio is making prepara- 
tions to sail from Venice. Above all are the large number and 
great variety of scenes that take place between the opening of 
the play and the choosing of the leaden casket. These events 
taken together, with many little inferences and hints that point 
to the passing of days, give the impression that a long time has 
elapsed, — so long a time that when Salerio brings the news from 
Venice of the forfeiture of the bond, we are not at all surprised 

1 Dr. H. H. Furness : New Variorum Edition of " The Merchant of 
Venice," page 339, g.v. for a full discussion of this subject. 

IO9 



Appendix. 

that three months have passed. Probably no one who has ever 
seen the comedy on the stage has ever once questioned the mat- 
ter of time. This, of course, is what Shakespeare wished, and 
the whole matter shows his skill in creating an impression of a 
natural and orderly development of the plot. After all, the time 
duration of the play is a trivial concern so long as the audience 
at the theatre feels that it is perfectly possible and correct. 
Shakespeare did not have in mind the critical reader or the class- 
room student when he wrote his dramas. 



IIO 



COMMENTS UPON THE CHARACTERS 

Here are a few paragraphs from well-known books of criticism 
upon Shakespeare's characters. You will not always agree with 
everything in them, but they are all stimulating and may form 
the basis of interesting discussions. From them, too, you may 
possibly obtain new light upon the more interesting persons in 
the drama. You will find further critical passages in Dr. Fur- 
ness's Variorum Edition of " The Merchant of Venice," and in 
the volumes from which these selections are taken. 

Shylock 

In proportion as Shylock has ceased to be a popular 
bugbear "baited with the rabble's curse," he becomes a 
half -favorite with the philosophical part of the audience, 
who are disposed to think that Jewish revenge is at least 
as good as Christian injuries. Shylock is a good hater ; 
"a man no less sinned against than sinning." If he car- 
ries his revenge too far, yet he has strong grounds for 
"the lodged hate he bears Antonio," which he explains 
with equal force of eloquence and reason. He seems the 
depository of the vengeance of his race ; and though the 
long habit of brooding over daily insults and injuries has 
crusted over his temper with inveterate misanthropy, and 
hardened him against the contempt of mankind, this adds 
but little to the triumphant pretensions of his enemies. 
There is a* strong, quick, and deep sense of justice mixed 
up with the gall and bitterness of his resentment. The 
constant apprehension of being burnt alive, plundered, 
banished, reviled, and trampled on might be supposed to 
sour the most forbearing nature, and to take something 
from that " milk of human kindness " with which his per- 

III 



Appendix. 

secutors contemplated his indignities. The desire of re- 
venge is almost inseparable from the sense of wrong ; and 
we can hardly help sympathizing with the proud spirit hid 
beneath his Jewish gaberdine, stung to madness by re- 
peated undeserved provocations, and laboring to throw off 
the load of obloquy and oppression heaped upon him and 
all his tribe by one desperate act of " lawful " revenge, till 
the ferociousness of the means by which he is to execute 
his purpose, and the pertinacity with which he adheres to 
it, turn us against him ; but even at last, when disappointed 
of the sanguinary revenge with which he had glutted his 
hopes, and exposed to beggary and contempt by the letter 
of the law on which he had insisted with so little remorse, 
we pity him, and think him hardly dealt with by his judges. 
In all his answers and retorts upon his adversaries he has 
the best, not only of the argument, but of the question, 
reasoning on their own principles and practice. 
— William Hazlitt, 

"Characters of Shakespeare's Plays," 1817. 

In the picture of the Jew there is not the tragic grandeur 
of Richard III ; but there is a similar force of mind, and 
the same subtlety of intellect, though it is less selfish. In 
point of courage I would give the palm to Shylock, for he 
was an ill-used man and the champion of an oppressed 
race ; nor is he a hypocrite, like Richard. In fact, Shake- 
speare, whilst he lends himself to the prejudices of Chris- 
tians against Jews, draws so philosophical a picture of the 
energetic Jewish character, that he traces the blame of its 
faults to the iniquity of the Christian world. Shy lock's 
arguments are more logical than those of his opponents, 
and the latter overcome him only by a legal quibble. But 

112 



The Characters. 

he is a usurer and lives on the interest of lent moneys ; 
and what but Christian persecution forced him to live by 
these means ? But he is also inhuman and revengeful. 
Why? because they called him dog, and spat upon his. 
Jewish gaberdine. They voided their rheum upon him, 
and he in return wished to void his revenge upon them. 
All this is natural, and Shylock has nothing unnatural 
about him. 

— Thomas Campbell, 

" Dramatic Works of Shakespeare,' 1 1838. 

Shylock is inwardly a dark nature ; also he is inwardly 
a strong nature. In purpose, will, and passion he is a 
man of energy ; and, by the bigotry of society, his energy 
is restricted to one mode of power, — the power of money. 
Money engages his activity, but does not exhaust his being. 
To have potency, he must have money. Having any 
amount of money, he may still be trodden on as a reptile ; 
but wanting money, he is a reptile without a sting. Con- 
tempt is around him, as the light of day ; he breathes, as 
he walks, an atmosphere of odium ; but the light does not 
shame him ; the atmosphere does not sicken him ; he has 
the stout vitality of a proud constitution, and though he 
cringes, and bows, and smiles, and seems as servile as a 
dog, mean as his scorners think him, their lowest idea of 
him is reverence itself, compared with his highest idea of 
them. The lords of Venice may call the Jew a slave, but 
he is an aristocrat in every drop of his blood ; and more 
value does he set on any drop that trickles in a Hebrew 
beggar's veins than the richest streams they can boast of 
from their upstart sires. They may use foul words to 
him, but that is their own discredit ; they may spit on 

"3 



Appendix. 

him, but that is their infamy, and not his ; he cannot give 
them blow for blow, but he can give them bigotry for 
bigotry; he refuses their doctrine, he willingly accepts 
their example. 

— H. Giles, "Human Life in Shakespeare," 1868. 

Shylock's relation to his daughter is a point where least 
can be said in his excuse. The ossification of his mind 
and feelings, his selfishness and bitterness, have also en- 
tered his family life, and, like corrosive acids, have eaten 
and destroyed it. While his co-religionists are wont to 
hold family ties in high estimation, and to keep their do- 
mestic life in a certain patriarchal holiness, so as to escape 
from the pressure of the outer world, Shylock, according 
to Jessica, makes his home a hell. He does not succeed 
in leaving harshness, avarice, hatred, and revenge out of 
doors, and in being gentle, kind, and generous within the 
bosom of his family; it is, indeed, an almost impossible 
task. Can the early death of his wife have contributed to 
this ? But the remembrance of her attaches only to the 
turquoise which she has given him. If we may infer Shy- 
lock's conjugal love from his paternal love, there can be 
as little said of the one as of the other, and, consequently, 
we can scarcely suppose that had Leah lived longer she 
would have exercised a softening and ennobling influence 
upon her husband's character. His ducats, and his jewels, 
and the feeling of revenge against his Christian oppressors 
have so completely taken possession of his heart, that there 
is not even the smallest space left for conjugal or paternal 
love. Jessica is nothing to him but the keeper of his house 
and the guardian of his treasures. She leads the life of a 
prisoner ; she is to shut the ears of the house, and, accord- 

114 



The Characters. 

ing to Oriental custom, is not allowed to put her head out 
of the window to gape at " varnished " Christian fools, who 
are an abomination to her father. That she should pos- 
sess any claim to the enjoyment of life Shylock never 
dreams ; his withered soul never supposes that hers is 
expanding in youthful excitement and desire. Why does 
he not surround her life with at least such ornaments and 
finery as young girls are accustomed to regard as a great 
part of their happiness ? Why does he not place her 
under the motherly care of a companion, instead of leav- 
ing her completely to herself at home while he goes about 
his money transactions ? Why ? From greed, selfishness, 
and hard-heartedness. 

— Karl Elze, "Essays," translated by Schmitz, 1874. 

Portia 

Portia, Isabella, Beatrice, and Rosalind may be classed 
together, as characters of intellect, because, when com- 
pared with others, they are at once distinguished by their 
mental superiority. In Portia it is intellect kindled into 
romance by a poetical imagination. . . . The wit of Portia 
is like attar of roses, rich and concentrated. ... As 
women and individuals, as breathing realities, clothed in 
flesh and blood, I believe we must assign the first rank to 
Portia, as uniting in herself in a more eminent degree than 
the others, all the noblest and most lovable qualities that 
ever met together in woman. 

Portia is endued with her own share of those delightful 
qualities which Shakespeare has lavished on many of his 
female characters ; but, besides the dignity, the sweetness, 
and tenderness which should distinguish her sex gener- 
ally, she is individualized by qualities peculiar to herself, 

"5 



Appendix. 

by her high mental powers, her enthusiasm of tempera- 
ment, her decision of purpose, and her buoyancy of spirit. 
These are innate ; she has other distinguishing qualities 
more external, and which are the result of the circum- 
stances in which she is placed. Thus she is the heiress 
of a princely name and countless wealth ; a train of obe- 
dient pleasures have ever waited round her ; and from 
infancy she has breathed an atmosphere redolent of per- 
fume and blandishment. Accordingly, there is a com- 
manding grace, a highbred, airy elegance, a spirit of 
magnificence in all that she says and does, as one to 
whom splendor had been familiar from her very birth. 
She treads as though her footsteps had been among mar- 
ble palaces, beneath roofs of fretted gold, o'er cedar floors 
and pavements of jasper and porphyry — amid gardens 
full of statues, and flowers, and fountains, and haunting 
music. She is full of penetrative wisdom, and genuine 
tenderness, and lively wit ; but as she has never known 
want, or grief [not when her father died ? — Ed.] , or fear, 
or disappointment ; her wisdom is without a touch of the 
sombre or the sad ; her affections are all mixed up with 
faith, hope, and joy; and her wit has not a particle of 
malevolence. 

And in the description of her various suitors in the first 
scene with Nerissa, what infinite power, wit, and vivacity ! 
She half checks herself as she is about to give the reins to 
her sportive humor : "In truth, I know it is a sin to be a 
mocker." But if it carries her away, it is so perfectly 
good-natured, so temperately bright, so ladylike, it is ever 
without offence ; and so far, most unlike the satirical, 
poignant, unsparing wit of Beatrice, " misprising what she 
looks on," In fact, I can scarcely conceive a greater con- 

116 



The Characters. 

trast than between the vivacity of Portia and the vivacity 
of Beatrice. Portia, with all her airy brilliance, is su- 
premely soft and dignified ; everything she says or does 
displays her capability for profound thought and feeling 
as well as her lively and romantic disposition ; and as I 
have seen in an Italian garden a fountain flinging round 
its wreaths of showery light, while the many-colored Iris 
hung brooding above it, in its calm and soul-felt glory ; 
so in Portia the wit is ever kept subordinate to the poetry, 
and we still feel the tender, the intellectual, and the im- 
aginative part of the character as superior to, and presid- 
ing over, its spirit and vivacity. 

— Mrs. Jameson, "Characteristics of Women," 1833. 

(Quoted by Dr. Furness.) 

I chose Portia, then as now my ideal of a perfect 
woman, — 

The noble woman nobly planned, 

To warn, to comfort, and command ; 

The creature not too bright or good 

For human nature's daily food ; 

For transient sorrows, simple wiles, 

Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles ; 

the wise, witty woman, loving with all her soul, and sub- 
mitting with all her heart to a man whom everybody but 
herself (who w r as the best judge) would have judged her 
inferior ; the laughter-loving, light-hearted, true-hearted, 
deep-hearted woman, full of keen perception, of active effi- 
ciency, of wisdom prompted by love, of tenderest unselfish- 
ness, of generous magnanimity ; noble, simple, humble, 
pure ; true, dutiful, religious, and full of fun ; delightful 
above all others, the woman of women. 

— Mrs. Fannie A. Kemble, Atlantic Monthly, 1876. 

117 



Appendix. 

Antonio 

Antonio is a good man, — a man whom we love for his 
high integrity, his disinterested liberality, his devoted 
friendship ; but his rashness in signing the bond sug- 
gested to the dramatist the propriety of characterizing 
him as deficient in worldly prudence, and too easy and 
unwary in his dealings with mankind. It was certainly 
through simplicity, though not what Shylock calls " low 
simplicity," that Antonio condemned interest ; it was 
through simplicity that he thought lightly of the condi- 
tion stipulated in the bond ; he was imprudent in allow- 
ing himself to forget, or in failing to exert himself that he 
might be prepared for, the day of payment ; he was incau- 
tious in venturing the whole of his wealth in argosies upon 
the ocean. That he was a rich merchant we may suppose 
to have been owing more to patrimonial inheritance than 
to his own mercantile sagacity and success. That he 
should be found unable, though a wealthy man, to lend 
three thousand ducats, was necessary to give occasion for 
the bond ; and the inability is made to arise out of that 
incautiousness by which Shakespeare has so consistently 
characterized him. 

— Rev. John Hunter, 

Introduction to " Merchant of Venice,''' , 1872. 

From the beginning Antonio has abused and ill-treated 
the Jew, but this is the only stain on his character. Other- 
wise he is distinguished by gentleness, benevolence, and 
kind-heartedness, and it cannot be conceived that his 
hatred of the Jew would amount to such cruelty, and this 
at the very moment when, in regard to the confiscation of 
the Jew's property, he gives an unmistakable proof of his 

Il8 



The Characters. 

generosity. His demand for the conversion arises, in all 
probability, from an entirely different motive, and we shall 
hardly err in seeking it in the general religious conviction 
of the Middle Ages, according to which none but believers 
in Christianity could partake of salvation and eternal 
blessedness. That the Jews are eternally lost is known 
even to Marlowe's Barabas, who says : " I am a Jew, and 
therefore am I lost." It is well known that this convic- 
tion rose to the belief that it was a meritorious work to 
assist the non-Christians to the blessings of Christianity, 
even against their own wish, by forcing them to become 
converts. From this point of view Antonio's demand and 
the Doge's action appear in a different light, and it is 
easily understood that they should regard the proposed 
conversion as a proof of mercy as well. They intended 
to save Shylock's soul from eternal perdition. 

— Karl Elze, "Essays," translated by Schmitz, 1874. 

Gratiano 

Gratiano is a most delightful and most natural charac- 
ter. He is one of those useful men in society who will 
keep up the ball of mirth and good-humor, simply by his 
own mercurial temperament and agreeable rattle ; for he 
is like a babbling woodside brook, seen through at once, 
and presenting every ripple of its surface to the sunbeams 
of good-fellowship. If a picnic were proposed, Gratiano 
would be the man for the commissariat department ; and 
the wines shall be unimpeachable in quantity as well as 
quality ; the ladies shall lack no squire of dames, and the 
men no stimulus to keep their gallantry from rusting. 
And, what is better than all, if a friend be in adversity, 
Gratiano will champion him with good words and deeds, 

119 



Appendix. 

if not with the most sagacious counsel. He would no 
doubt talk a man off his legs ; and, therefore, Shakespeare 
brings him as a relief against the grave men, Antonio and 
Bassanio, who, being both anxious on account of worldly 
cares, resent his vivacity, and they are at all events as 
peevish as he is flippant and inconsiderate. Bassanio says 
of Gratiano that he "speaks an infinite deal of nothing." 
The best of it is, that Bassanio himself advances no claim 
to be the censor of his lively companion ; for, in com- 
parison with him, he is dull in capacity ; and the very 
observation just quoted follows one of the most agreeable 
and sensible speeches in the play, made by " the infinite- 
deal-of-nothing " Gratiano. Shakespeare has made the 
best apology for the Merchant and his friend ; but his 
own love of cheerfulness with good temper could not fail 
to throw liberally into Gratiano's scale, and he has no- 
where produced a better defence of natural vivacity. 
Moreover, he has not made Gratiano selfishly boisterous, 
indulging his own feelings only ; he first manifests a so- 
licitude for Antonio's lowness of spirits, and then he rallies 
him. These are the small and delicate lights thrown into 
his characters that render them exhaustless as studies, 
and give us that indefinable, rather perhaps that unrec- 
ognized and unconscious interest in all they say and do, 
and which, to the same extent, appears to be the almost 
undivided prerogative of Shakespeare alone. 
— Charles Co wden -Clarke, 

" Shakespeare-Characters," 1863. 

Jessica 

Shakespeare has done the grandest justice to the ele- 
mental force of affection in woman's nature. He presents 

I20 



The Characters. 

it to us in every mode of beauty and truth. In his less 
serious plays, all the characters whom he intends for lov- 
able have not only graces and charms, but natural femi- 
nine sensibilities. One exception there is, — which not 
even Shakespeare can make me like, — and that is the 
pert, disobedient hussy Jessica. Her conduct I regard as 
in a high degree reprehensible ; and those who have the 
care of families, must, I think, feel as I do. She w r as a 
worthless minx, and I have no good word to say of her. 
If the fellow who ran away with her had, like old Pepys, 
left a diary behind him, I am quite sure that we should 
learn that his wife turned out an intolerable vixen. She 
selfishly forgot the duty of a daughter when she should 
have most remembered it. Why should she, a maiden of 
Israel, leave her poor old father, Shylock, alone in the 
midst of his Christian enemies ? What if he was wrong? 
The more need he had of her. What if most wrong? 
Even then, even in the madness of defeated vengeance, 
in the misery of humbled pride, when regarded as most 
guilty, when there was nothing in the world for him but 
contempt without pity, the child of his home — his only 
child — should have had in her woman's heart a shelter 
for her scorned father. 

— H. Giles, " Human Life in Shakespeare," 1868. 

Nerissa 

Nerissa is a good specimen of a common genus of char- 
acters ; she is a clever, confidential waiting-woman, who 
has caught a little of her lady's elegance and romance ; 
she affects to be lively and sententious, falls in love, and 
makes her favor conditional on the fortune of the caskets, 

121 



Appendix. 

and, in short, mimics her mistress with good emphasis 
and discretion. Nerissa and the gay, talkative Gratiano 
are as well matched as the incomparable Portia and her 
magnificent and captivating lover. 

— Mrs. Jameson, "Characteristics of Women," 1863. 



122 



GLIMPSES OF LIFE IN SHAKESPEARE'S TIME 
FOUND IN THE MERCHANT OF VENICE 

As you read the play, or as you think back over the 
various scenes after you have finished it, recall to mind 
any customs, or things of special interest, which differ 
from those of to-day. It may be well to make a list of 
some of them. Together they will give you a glimpse of 
life as it was in Elizabethan days. They may serve, too, 
as most interesting subjects for class talks. 

i. Methods of travel. 

2. Various kinds of coins and the value of money. 

3. Interest and usury. 

4. Masques and pageants. 

5. Methods of telling time. 

6. Archery and other sports of the age. 

7. The feeling toward Jews. 

8. Torture of criminals. 

9. Puns and punning. 

10. Mottoes on jewelry, — " cutlers' poetry." 

11. Servants and companions. 

12. Lighting of streets and houses. 

13. Superstitions about dreams. 

14. Messengers and forerunners. 

15. The wearing of false hair. 

16. The conduct of a trial. 

17. Merchant vessels and merchandise. 

18. The keeping of slaves. 

19. Venice in 1600. 

20. Oaths, words of salutation and farewell, and terms 
of endearment. 

123 



FAMILIAR PASSAGES IN THE MERCHANT OF 

VENICE 

When you first take a play of Shakespeare in hand, 
you soon begin to have the feeling that you have read 
this before, though you know you have not. The fact is, 
Shakespeare expressed the general mind and common 
feeling of us all in phrases so packed with meaning, so 
full of insight into human nature, so happy in figure and 
choice of words, that we have adopted them and added 
them to our stock of every-day language. Only the Bible 
has contributed more of these stock phrases to modern 
English speech. The result is that, without knowing it, 
we are constantly quoting words and even whole lines 
from Shakespeare's plays, as, for instance, when we speak 
of "the king's English," "sweets to the sweet," " much 
virtue in If," "at a pin's fee," "what's in a name?" 
" brevity is the soul of wit," " last, but not least," "every 
inch a king," "the tyrant custom," "single blessedness," 
"as easy as lying," "the short and the long of it," "a 
lion among ladies," " for ever and a day," " give the devil 
his due," " in my mind's eye," " the game is up," " forget 
and forgive," "cudgel thy brains," "what's done is 
done," " the pink of courtesy," " parting is such sweet 
sorrow," " I'll not budge an inch," etc. 

With the exception of " Hamlet " and " Macbeth," 
probably none of the plays have contributed more familiar 
phrases to our speech to-day than "The Merchant of Ven- 
ice." Here are some of the most important. Others may 
be found in Bartlett's " Familiar Quotations." It will 
interest you to try to place them by recalling when and 
where and by whom they were spoken. How many of 

124 



Familiar Passages. 

them had you heard before you studied the play ? Learn 
as many of them as you can. 

i. I dote on his very absence. 

2. A harmless necessary cat. 

3. He is well paid that is well satisfied. 

4. There is no vice so simple but assumes some mark 
of virtue on his outward parts. 

5.I never knew so young a body with so old a head. 

6. It is a wise father that knows his own child. 

7 . The quality of mercy is not strained ; 

It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven 
Upon the place beneath. 

8. God made him, and therefore let him pass for a man. 

9. The Devil can cite Scripture for his purpose ! 

10. Let it serve for table-talk. 

1 1 . How far that little candle throws his beams ! 
So shines a good deed in a naughty world. 

12. A Daniel come to judgment! yea, a Daniel! 

13. I am Sir Oracle, 

And when I ope my lips let no dog bark ! 

14. An unlessoned girl, unschooled, unpractised; 
Happy in this, she is not yet so old 

But she may learn. 

15. Makes a swan-like end 
Fading in. music. 

16. Young in limbs, in judgment old. 

17. I am never merry when I hear sweet music. 

18. Truth will come to light ; murder cannot be hid long. 

19. I do know of these 
That therefore only are reputed wise 
For saying nothing. 

125 



Appendix. 

20. The man that hath no music in himself, 

Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, 
Is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils : 

#-A£» -4k .At. -Afc -Af, J/, 

"TV* TV *7v "TV -TV* VT 

Let no such man be trusted. 

2 1 . All that glisters is not gold. 

22. Here are a few of the unpleasant'st words 
That ever blotted paper ! 

23. Must I hold a candle to my shames ? 

24. They are as sick that surfeit with too much as they 
that starve with nothing. 

25. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano, 
A stage where every man must play a part 
And mine a sad one. 

26. What ! wouldst thou have a serpent sting thee twice ? 

27. An honest exceeding poor man. 

28. How many things by season seasoned are 
To their right praise and true perfection ! 

29. Tis not in the bond. 

30. A goodly apple rotten at the heart : 

O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath ! 

31. These blessed candles of the night. 

32. Sometimes from her eyes 

I did receive fair speechless messages. 
^^. All the wealth I had 

Ran in my veins : I was a gentleman. 

34. If to do were as easy as to know what were good to 
do, chapels had been churches and poor men's cottages 
princes' palaces. 

35. O, that estates, degrees, and offices 

Were not derived corruptly, and that clear honor 
Were purchased by the merit of the wearer. 
126 



WHAT WE KNOW ABOUT SHAKESPEARE 

The facts that we know with absolute certainty about 
William Shakespeare can be given in a few meagre para- 
graphs. Some bare, prosaic records in Strat- „ 
& ^ ' f . Few facts 

ford and in the Stationers' Register in Lon- k nown 

don, a few signatures, a will, a deed or two, about 

an application for a coat-of-arms, an occasional sbake - 
r . . . ,. speare. 

mention 01 his name in court proceedings, in 

lists of actors, and in the works of fellow authors, — this 
is about all we have as the basis for a life of one of the 
greatest men that the world has produced. Traditions 
and quaint fanciful stories exist, as we might expect, in 
infinite number and variety. Many of these date back to 
the poet's own time, and therefore may have in them at 
least an element of truth. By far the greater number, 
however, gained popularity nearly a century after his 
death, when the curiosity of an age intensely interested in 
the drama began to look back and talk about the most 
marvellous of all the makers of plays. Few of these later 
traditions can be relied upon. Yet from the few scrappy 
facts that w r e have, supplemented by the earlier legends, 
and above all by a study of the plays themselves, it is 
possible to make a story of the poet's life, which, though 
by no means complete, is full enough to give us a fairly 
clear understanding of his growth in fame and business 
prosperity, and his development as a dramatist. 

It is not strange that we know so little about Shake- 
speare. His age was not one of biographical writing. 
To-day a man of not one tenth part of his genius is be- 
sought by reporters for interviews concerning his life ; 

127 



Appendix. 

he is persuaded by admiring friends to write his mem- 
oirs ; as his end approaches, every important newspaper 

in the land has an article of several columns 
Why we 
know so ready to print the instant that word of his death 

little about comes over the wire. Three hundred and fifty 
Shake- years ago nothing of this kind was possible. 

Newspapers and magazines, genealogies and 
contemporary history did not exist. Encyclopaedias, dic- 
tionaries of names, directories, "blue-books," and volumes 
of " Who's Who " had not been dreamed of. Personal cor- 
respondence was meagre, and what few letters were written, 
seldom were preserved. Above all, a taste for reading the 
lives of men had not been formed. In fact, it was not until 
fifty years after Shakespeare's time that the art of biograph- 
ical writing in England was really born. When we remem- 
ber, in addition to these facts, that actors and playwrights 
then held a distinctly inferior position in society, and by 
the growing body of Puritans were looked upon with con- 
tempt and extreme disfavor, it is not surprising that no 
special heed was paid to the life of Shakespeare. On the 
contrary, it is astonishing that we know as much as we do 
about him, — fully as much as we know about most of the 
writers of his time, and even of many who lived much 
later. 

In the records of the 16th century there are numer- 
ous references to Shakespeares living in the midland 
. , counties of England, especially in Warwick- 

father, John shire. For the most part, they seem to have 
Shake- been substantial yeomen and plain farmers of 

speare. sound practical sense rather than men of learn- 

ing or culture. Some of them owned land and prospered. 
Such a one was John Shakespeare, who moved to Strat- 

128 



Shakespeare's Life. 

ford-on- Avon about 1550 and became a dealer in malt and 
corn, meat, wool, and leather. He is referred to some- 
times as a glover and a butcher. Probably he was both, 
and dealt besides in all the staples that farmers about the 
village produced and brought to market to sell. The fact 
that he could not write, which was nothing unusual among 
men of his station in the 16th century, did not prevent his 
prospering in business. For more than twenty years after 
the earliest mention of his name in the Stratford records, 
he is spoken of frequently and always in a way to show us 
that his financial standing in the community was steadily 
increasing. He seems also to have been a man of affairs. 
From one office to another he rose until in 1568 he 
held the position of High Bailiff, or Mayor of Stratford. 
Eleven years earlier his fortunes had been increased by 
his marriage to Mary Arden, the daughter of a prosperous 
farmer of the neighboring village of Wilmcote, who be- 
queathed to his daughter a house, with fifty acres of land, 
and a considerable sum of money. It is not fair, there- 
fore, to speak of the father of William Shakespeare, as 
some have done, as " an uneducated peasant," or as " a 
provincial shopkeeper." At the time of the birth of his 
illustrious son he was one of the most prominent men in 
Stratford, decidedly well-to-do, respected and trusted by all. 
The year before John Shakespeare brought his bride 
from Wilmcote to Stratford-on-Avon, he had purchased 

a house in Henley Street, and there he and 

. . . . The house 

his wife were living when their children were j n W hich 

born. It was a cottage two stories high, with Shake- 
dormer windows, and of timber and plaster s P eare was 
construction. Though frequently repaired and 
built over during the three hundred and fifty years that 

129 



Appendix. 

have passed, it still remains in general appearance much 
the same as it looked in 1556. Simple, crude, plain, — it 
is nevertheless the most famous house in England, if not 
in the world. Noted men and women from all parts of 
the earth have visited Stratford to see it. Essays, stories, 
and poems have been written about it. Preserved in the 
care of the Memorial Society, it is the shrine of the liter- 
ary pilgrim and the Mecca of tourists who flock during 
the summer to the quaint old village on the Avon. For 
here, in a small bare room on the second floor, William 
Shakespeare was born. 

How little we know of Shakespeare, compared with 
even a minor poet of the 19th century, is shown by the 

« a * xi. fact that we are not certain of the exact date 
Date of the 

poet's birth, on which the greatest of all poets was born. 
April 23, The records of Holy Trinity Church in Strat- 

ford show that the child was baptized on April 
26, 1564, and since it was the custom at that time for the 
baptism of children to take place on the third day after 
birth, it has been generally agreed that William was born 
on April 23, and that date is celebrated as his birthday. 
Tradition tells us, and probably truthfully, that it was also 
on this date, April 23, in 16 16, that he died. 

Of the poet's boyhood we know next to nothing. It is 
a mistake, however, to assume that he lacked educational 

opportunities. There was in Stratford an ex- 

cellent free Grammar School such as a bailiff's 
speare s ... 

boyhood son would attend, and to which it is reasonable 

and school- to suppose that the boy. was sent. Here he 

nig, 1571- studied chiefly Latin, for education then in 
1577 

England consisted almost entirely of the 

classics, especially Vergil, Ovid, Horace, and the comedies 

130 




Shakespeare's House at Stratford-on-Avon 




The Room where Shakespeare was Born 



Shakespeare's Life. 

of Plautus and Terence. The comment of Ben Jonson, 
his fellow dramatist of later years, that Shakespeare had 
"small Latin and less Greek," should not be taken too 
literally. Compared with the profound scholarship of a 
college-trained man like Jonson, the Stratford boy had, to 
be sure, but little knowledge of the classics. Yet there is 
every evidence to show that he understood both Latin 
and French pretty well, and that he knew the Bible thor- 
oughly. It is clear, too, that by nature he was a boy of 
remarkable powers of observation and keenly retentive 
memory, who used every opportunity about him for ac- 
quiring information and ideas. Whether he went to 
school or not would have made but little difference to one 
whose mind possessed rare powers of developing and 
training itself. Like Burns and Lincoln, he was educated 
more by people and the world of Nature about him than 
by books and formal teaching. 

Ordinarily a boy of the 16th century would remain at 
the Grammar School from seven to fourteen, but there is 

a well-founded tradition that Shakespeare left _. 

c Five years 

in 1597, when he was thirteen years old, and in Stratford 
never attended school again. About this time after leav- 

the records show that his father's financial dif- 1*?, fl ?? !: 

1577-1582 
ficulties began. Another pair of hands was 

needed at home to help in the support of the family, and 
William was the oldest son. Just how he was occupied, 
however, between his fourteenth and eighteenth years we 
cannot say. Probably he assisted his father in his declin- 
ing business. One of the bits of Stratford gossip, collected 
by the antiquarian Aubrey, states that he was " in his 
younger years a school-master in the country," and another 
tells us that " when he was a boy he exercised his father's 

r 3 J 



Appendix. 

trade. When he killed a calf, he would doe it in a high style 
and make a speech." It may be, as another reference 
seems to imply, that he was employed in the office of a 
lawyer. But we must not put too much confidence in these 
traditions, which, like all stories passed on by word of 
mouth, grew and changed as the years went by. As much 
as we should like to know of his employment, his reading, 
and all the circumstances that were developing his mind 
and character during these five important years, we must 
remember that " there is no reason why anything should 
have been recorded ; he was an obscure boy living in an 
inland village, before the age of newspapers, and out of 
relation with people of fashion and culture. During this 
period as little is known of him as is known of Cromwell 
during the same period ; as little, but no less. This fact 
gives no occasion either for surprise or scepticism as to 
his marvellous genius ; it was an entirely normal fact con- 
cerning boys growing up in unliterary times and in rural 
communities." 1 

The first really authentic record we have of Shakespeare 
after his school days is that of the baptism of his daughter 
„. Susanna, on May 26, 1583. The previous year, 

riage to when only eighteen, he had married Anne 
Anne Hath- Hathaway, the daughter of a farmer in the 
away, 1582. neighboring village of Shottery. This pictur- 
esque hamlet was reached then from Stratford, as it is to- 
day, by a delightful foot-path through the wide and fertile 
fields of Warwickshire. Perhaps no other spot connected 
with the poet's life, except the house in which he was born, 
is dearer to people's hearts than the quaint old thatched- 

1 H. W. Mabie : " William Shakespeare, Poet, Dramatist, and Man," 
page 51. 

132 




Anne Hathaway' s Cottage at Shottery 




Interior of Anne Hathaway' s Cottage 



Shakespeare's Life. 

roof building known as " Anne Hathaway's cottage " ; for 
it still stands, at least in part, as it was when the " youth- 
ful lover went courting through the meadows, past the 
'bank where the wild thyme blows,' to Shottery." Two 
years after the birth of Susanna, in February, 1585, twins 
were born, and soon after. the youthful husband and father 
left his native town to seek his fortunes in London. 

It would be most interesting to know when and how and 
just why Shakespeare left Stratford, but no documents 
have been found that throw any certain light 
upon this portion of his life. It has generally , . 
been assumed that he found his way to the Stratford: 
metropolis soon after the birth of his twins. tlle poach- 
Probably he walked by the highway through ™ s ra x " 
Oxford and Wycombe, or if he rode it was on 
horseback, purchasing a saddle-horse at the beginning of 
his journey, as was the custom then, and selling it upon his 
arrival in the city. There is an old tradition that, with 
other young men of the village, he had been involved in a 
poaching escapade upon the estate of Sir Thomas Lucy. 
In the first regular biography of Shakespeare written by 
Nicholas Rowe in 1709, nearly a hundred years after the 
poet's death, the story of this adventure is given as an 
actual fact. " He had, by a misfortune common enough 
among young fellows, fallen into ill company, and among 
them some that made a frequent practice of deer-stealing, 
engaged him with them more than once in robbing a park 
that belonged to Sir Thomas Lucy of Charlecote, near 
Stratford. For this he was prosecuted by that gentleman, 
as he thought, somewhat too severely; and, in order to 
revenge that ill-usage, he made a ballad upon him, and 
though this, probably the first essay of his poetry, be lost, 

l 33 



Appendix. 

yet it is said to have been so very bitter that it redoubled 
the prosecution against him to that degree that he was 
obliged to leave his business and family in Warwickshire 
and shelter himself in London." No trace of this ballad 
has been found ; indeed, the whole story rests on , gossip, 
and must not be taken too literally. It is supported, in a 
way, by the fact that Justice Shallow in " The Merry Wives 
of Windsor " is unquestionably a humorous sketch, or cari- 
cature, of Sir Thomas Lucy of Charlecote Hall, thus sug- 
gesting that whether he had been prosecuted and harried 
out of town by his wealthy neighbor or not, the youthful 
poet had some personal reasons for ridiculing the head of 
the Lucy family. 

Still another account explains Shakespeare's departure 
from Stratford by stating that he joined a company of 

strolling players. Though this may possibly 
Stratiord 

too narrow have been the means of his finding congenial 

a field for travelling companions, it seems more natural 

Snake- tQ SU pp 0se that he left his native village much 

speare. V i i 

as a boy to-day leaves a remote country town 

and goes to the city to seek his fortune. His father's 
affairs, we know, had been steadily declining ; his own 
family was growing ; business in many trades through the 
midland counties was poor ; any ambitious and high- 
spirited youth would have become restless and discon- 
tented. What was more natural, under these circumstances, 
than the breaking of home-ties and moving to London for 
its larger opportunities ? 

The traditions that Shakespeare, upon his arrival in 
the capital about 1587, was employed in a printer's shop 
and a lawyer's office, are extremely doubtful. It seems 
much more likely that he became connected with the 

*3% 



Shakespeare's Life. 

theatre at once, either as a call-boy in the building itself, 

or as one of those who held the horses on which gallants 

of the city rode to the play-house. That he 

Shake- 
should have turned to the theatre rather than „„„„„„,„ 

speare s 

to business to get a foothold in London is not first connec- 

strange. Companies of players had frequently tion witl1 

visited Stratford in his boyhood. Indeed, the .. . 

7 ' theatres. 

people of his native town seem to have been 
exceptionally fond of the drama, a fact, as Mr. Mabie 
has pointed out, " of very obvious bearing on the educa- 
tion of Shakespeare's imagination and the bent of his 
mind toward a vocation." As a lad of eleven he probably 
saw the pageant at Kenilworth Castle, in honor of Queen 
Elizabeth's visit to the Earl of Leicester. The processions 
and gorgeous costumes of this occasion, the tableaux and 
scenes set forth by the actors from the city must have 
made a profound impression on the mind of the imagina- 
tive boy. Moreover, it was a time of widespread interest 
in everything dramatic. When Shakespeare was born in 
1564, there was not a single building in London devoted to 
the presentation of plays. At the time of his death, fifty- 
three years later, there were at least nine. The develop- 
ment of the drama from simple morality plays and historical 
pageants given in tavern-yards and on village greens, to 
" Julius Caesar " and " Hamlet," covered the period of the 
poet's youth; so that when he arrived in London, more than 
ever before or since in English history, the theatre was of 
compelling interest and attraction. 

The six years after his arrival in London are a blank. 
We must imagine him rapidly rising through various posi- 
tions at the Rose or the Curtain, for a young man of his 
genius and enterprise would not long remain obscure. 

!3S 



Appendix. 

It is certain that he became an actor before he wrote for 
the stage. By 1592, however, he had evidently earned suffi- 
His earliest c ^ ent fame as a playwright to stir the jealousy 
work as of Robert Greene, a rival author, who in that 
actor and year refers bitterly to him as "in his owne con- 
ceit the only Shakes-scene in a countrie," and 
then parodies a line from an early play that is attributed 
to Shakespeare. While as an actor he was learning stage- 
craft in the best possible school, he was undoubtedly 
trying his prentice hand by mending old plays and con- 
tributing bits to the work of his older companions. 
These earliest dramatic writings may have been numer- 
ous, but they are either entirely lost or hidden in plays 
credited to other men. His progress from a clerk in a 
country store to a writer of drama is thus admirably de- 
scribed by Sidney Lee : " A young man of two-and- 
twenty, burdened with a wife and children, he had left his 
home in the little country town of Stratford-on-Avon in 
1586 to seek his fortune in London. Without friends, 
without money, he had, like any other stage-struck youth, 
set his heart on becoming an actor in the metropolis. 
Fortune favoured him. He sought and won the humble 
office of call-boy in a London playhouse ; but no sooner 
had his foot touched the lowest rung of the theatrical 
ladder than his genius taught him that the topmost rung 
was within his reach. He tried his hand on the revision 
of an old play, and the manager was not slow to recognize 
an unmatched gift for dramatic writing. 1 

It was not until 1593, when Shakespeare was twenty- 
nine, that he appeared openly in the field of authorship. 
On April 18 of that year his long poem " Venus and 

1 Sidney Lee : " Shakespeare and the Elizabethan Playgoer," page 32. 

I36 



Shakespeare's Life. 

Adonis " was entered at Stationers' Hall for publication. 

It was printed by Richard Field, a Stratford man who 

had come to London somewhat earlier than __ _ 

The first 

the poet, and though published without a name books 

on the title-page, the dedication to the Earl published 

of Southampton was signed " William Shake- under nis 

. name. 

speare." The same is true of "Lucrece," 

which was registered in May of 1594. These two long 
poems must have had wide popularity, for they are often 
praised by critics of the day, and in the poet's own life- 
time several editions of both were issued. They were 
the means by which Shakespeare became known as an 
author, for though some of his dramatic work may have 
been printed before this, plays were not regarded then as 
literature to be read, whereas these poems were issued 
under the poet's supervision for the reading public, and 
were thus " the first fruits of his conscious artistic life." 

Both as actor and playwright, Shakespeare's fame rap- 
idly increased after 1594; in fact, the eight years that 
followed saw him rise to the height of his 

powers. His name stands first on the list of Pro S ress m 

. . . fame and 

" principal Comedians " who acted Jonson's f or t U ne 

" Every Man in his Humour " in 1598. Francis 
Meres in his " Palladis Tamia," published in the same 
year, speaks of the "mellifluous and honey-tongued 
Shakespeare," and then proceeds to name twelve of his 
plays and compare him favorably with the Roman drama- 
tists Seneca and Plautus. Even if this list is incomplete 
we see that already before 1598 he had written three of 
his most charming comedies, one of them " The Merchant 
of Venice," and at least one of the tragedies that ranks 
among his very greatest. From then until his retirement 

137 



Appendix. 

to Stratford fourteen years later, there are frequent refer- 
ences to his plays which appeared with astonishing rapid- 
ity. The dates when they were written and first acted are 
often uncertain, but before 1612 he had produced more 
than twenty dramas which together constitute the most 
marvelous body of literary work that ever came from a 
human mind. 

As an actor he did not continue to excel. If we may 
trust the sentiments of the sonnets, it is clear that he 
thoroughly disliked this part of his profession. Probably 
after 1604 he ceased to appear on the stage altogether. 
Financially it is certain that he was prosperous. We 
know, for one thing, that he owned shares in several 
London theatres, notably the Globe, where many of his 
own plays were first presented to enthusiastic London 
audiences. Then his successful application to the Col- 
lege of Heralds in 1599, on behalf of his father, for a 
grant of coat-of-arms ; his purchase of several pieces of 
property in his native town ; the records of lawsuits to 
recover debts which were ow r ed him ; numerous references 
which show us that he was looked upon as a man of means 
and standing ; his friendship w r ith Ben Jonson and other 
learned men of his day, — these facts, with the traditions 
of later generations, all convince us that the author of 
" Hamlet " and " Macbeth " was a successful man of 
affairs, as well as one of the most prominent and best- 
loved dramatists of his time. 

Although Shakespeare made London his home after 
1584 or 1585, it is probable that he often visited Stratford 
where his family continued to reside. An old legend states 
that he frequently put up at the Crown Inn in Oxford on 
his way to and fro. Documents exist, moreover, which 

138 




Holy Trinity Parish Church, Stratford-on-Avon 



Good frend for ksvs sake for be are. 



TO D1CC TIE DVST ENCLOASED HEARER 

Blest be f man % spares 1 nts stones; 

AND CVRSf BE HE $" MOVES MY BONES* 



Inscription on Shakespeare's Tomb 



IvdicioPyijvm,cenio Socratem.arte Maronem 

lERRA THGn\PQPVLV-S'M/v.RET OlYMPVSHABET 

"Stay Passenger why go'est hov by so fast / 

READ IF 'HO/ CAN ST, WHOM ENVKMS DEATH HAH PLAST 
W1TI INT!ISM()NV1 ( €N-5HAKSI > EARE:WI'R WHO ME , 
QyiCK NATVRE DIDE:WHOSE NAME.DOT1 DECK t ToMRE 
[ARMOREXEN COST: -SlEH All, 5 HE HAH WR1TT 

Leaves living art, k/t pace, to serve hjswitt. 

GSUn A NO Do 16 16 

ALlAHS n DIK iW • 



Inscription on Shakespeare's Monument, Trinity Church, 
Stratford-on-Avon 



Shakespeare's Life. 

show that he was constantly investing money in real estate 

in his native village, to which he seems to have 

looked forward as a pleasant retreat after the Retiremen * 

, r , from Lon- 

strenuous days of actor, theatre-manager, and don 1613 

playwright were over. Probably, the breaking 

off of London ties was gradual ; but it is doubtful whether 

he was much in the city after 1612, the year in which 

" Henry VIII," the last of his plays, was written. He 

now appears in the records as " William Shakespeare, 

Gent, of Stratford-on-Avon " ; and there he lived with his 

well-won honors, respected and loved, for four years. 

In the early spring of 161 6, Shakespeare's youngest 

daughter, Judith, was married. A month later he made 

his will, and on April 25 the register of Christ D ., . 

Church in Stratford shows that he was buried. Stratford, 

According to the lettering on the monument April 23, 

i fii fi 
he died on April 23, and that date, the date of 

his birth fifty-two years before, has been generally ac- 
cepted as the day of his death. He was buried in the 
chancel of the fine old church, not far from the spot 
where he had been christened, and over the place where 
he lies may still be seen the quaint lines which tradition 
tells us he himself wrote to be inscribed above him : — 

Good Frend for Iesus Sake Forbeare, 
To Digg the Dust Encloased Heare : 
Blest be Y e Man Y t Spares thes Stones, 
And Curst be he Yt Moves My Bones. 

Whether the poet wrote these threatening words or not, 
no sexton has disturbed his remains, and the grave of 
William Shakespeare in the beautiful church by the river 
he loved has remained unopened. 

r 39 



SHAKESPEARE'S PLAYS AND POEMS 

One of the problems of Shakespearean scholars for 

more than a century has been to determine the exact 

^•^ ,.• years in which the various plays were written. 
Difficulties J . 

of deter- For just as we have no details of the poet's life, 

mining the so are the records of his work either extremely 
dates of the mea g re or entirely lacking. Not a single 
manuscript of anything that Shakespeare wrote 
has been preserved. The fire which burned the Globe 
theatre to the ground in 1613 may have destroyed the 
original pages of all the dramas : and yet, interesting 
and precious as they would be to us to-day, it is doubt- 
ful whether we can attribute to their loss our lack of 
knowledge as to just when each was written. We must 
remember that in Elizabethan times plays were not con- 
sidered literature to be read. After they had served their 
purpose on the stage and passed out of popular favor, 
they were set aside and wholly neglected. As long as 
there was the slightest chance of their being in demand at 
the theatre, the author and companies of actors did their 
best to keep them out of print altogether, apparently in 
the belief that attendance at the playhouse would suffer if 
the drama in book form was in the hands of the people. 
Moreover, among the most cultivated men of the day, and 
especially among the growing body of Puritans, there was 
a strong prejudice against the whole theatrical business. 
By them, actors were held in low esteem, and plays were 
looked upon as things of light, or even questionable, 
character. The modern conception that regards the 
drama as a high and artistic form of literature had not 
been born. 

140 



Plays and Poems. 

Under these circumstances it is not surprising that dur- 
ing his own lifetime only sixteen of Shakespeare's thirty- 
seven plays appeared in print. These editions, which 
are known to-day as the Quartos, were small, 

cheaply-made, paper-bound pamphlets usually The Q. uart0 
, , r . i Ti • 11 t editions of 

sold for a sixpence each. It is generally be- ^ plavs 

lieved that they were issued without the poet's 
consent, and probably even against his wishes. Several 
of them were undoubtedly printed from shorthand notes 
taken slyly at a performance in the theatre. Others may 
have been set up from the soiled and tattered copies of 
a needy actor who had been secretly bribed to part with 
them. The confusion and strange blunders in the text 
show us that these Quartos were the careless and hasty 
work of piratical printers ; indeed, it is almost certain that 
Shakespeare himself did not revise or in any way prepare 
a single one of them for the press. 

Inexact and inadequate as are the pirated Quarto 
editions, they would probably be the only plays of Shake- 
speare known to us to-day had it not been for -- x<irst 
a remarkable book that appeared seven years Folio 
after his death. In 1623 two of the poet's edition of 
friends put forth in a single volume his com- e p ays- 
plete dramatic works. These men, John Heminge and 
Henry Condell, — names which are forever linked with 
Shakespeare's, — were actors in the same company with 
him, and, with Burbage, were joint owners of the Globe 
Theatre. The great dramatist, as a token of lifelong 
■ friendship, in his will bequeathed to them and to Burbage 
the sum of twenty-six shillings and eight pence to buy 
rings ; and they in turn collected and edited his plays 
" to keepe the memory of so worthy a friend and fellow 

141 



Appendix. 

alive." It is a large volume of 901 pages in two columns 
of fine print, and on the title-page, besides a crude en- 
graving of the poet, are these words : 

Mr. William 
SHAKESPEARES 

COMEDIES, 

HISTORIES, & 

TRAGEDIES 

Published according to the True Original Copies. 

London 
Printed by Isaac laggard, and Ed. Blount. 1623. 

This is perhaps the most important volume in the whole 
range of English literature, for in it appeared for the first 
time in print twenty of Shakespeare's plays, among them 
"The Tempest," "Twelfth Night," "Julius Caesar," 
" Macbeth," " Cymbeline," and others of the dramatist's 
masterpieces. Heminge and Condell had access to stage 
copies of these plays which in another generation might 
have been lost or destroyed by fire ; so that their work, 
coming when it did, saved for us a large portion of the 
finest poetry and deepest wisdom of Shakespeare's mind. 
It is no wonder that the 156 extant copies of this notable 
book are preserved as priceless treasures ; for no other 
single volume ever did a greater service to literature than 
this Folio of 1623. 

Although Heminge and Condell must have known in 
many cases the exact years in which Shakespeare was at 
work upon his various plays, they did not consider such 

142 



Plays and Poems. 

information of sufficient interest to include it in their 
edition. Well might we spare some of the tiresome 
eulogies, which they printed in their preface, for a page 
or two of facts that they so easily might have included. 
As it stands, however, the First Folio helps but little in 
arranging the chronology of the comedies and tragedies. 
A.nd yet, in spite of all difficulties, by painstaking research 
scholars have come to a pretty general agreement upon 
the dates of composition of most of the plays. The evi- 
dence which they have used may be divided into two 

kinds, external and internal, — that is, evi- 

' ii-i Dates of 

dence found outside of the plays, and evidence compos i_ 

found within the works themselves. External tion: 

evidence consists of such information as has external 

evidence, 
been obtained from records of performances 

in diaries and letters ; quotations and allusions in other 
books ; entries in the register of the Stationers' Company, 
which for nearly three hundred years regulated the publi- 
cation of all books in England ; records of the Master of 
Revels at Court, and of course the dates on the title-pages 
of the Quartos themselves. A good illustration of this 
sort of evidence is the journal of a certain Dr. Simon 
Forman, in which he mentions the fact that in 1610 and 
161 1 he witnessed performances of "Macbeth," " Cym- 
beline," and " The Winter's Tale " at the Globe. An- 
other is the celebrated passage in the " Palladis Tamia," 
or "Wit's Treasury," of Francis Meres, which was pub- 
lished in 1598: "As Plautus and Seneca are accounted 
the best for Comedy and Tragedy among the Latines, so 
Shakespeare among y e English is the most excellent in 
both kinds for the stage ; for Comedy, witness his Getleme 
of Verona, his Errors, his Love labors lost, his Love 

H3 



Appendix. 

labours wonne, his Midsummers night dreame, & his Mer- 
chant of Venice: for Tragedy, his Richard the 2, Richard 
the 3, Henry the 4, King John, Titus Andro?iicus, and his 
Romeo and Juliet." Such references as these give a defi- 
nite year, later than which the plays referred to could not 
have been written. With a starting point thus settled, it 
is often possible to work backward and fix definitely the 
date of composition. 

Internal evidence, though seldom as exact as external, 

and therefore more' difficult to interpret, is much more 

abundant. It may be nothing more than a 

JJ3/L6S 01 

composi- reference in the mouth of an actor to events 

tion: or books the dates of which are known, such 

internal as the wor & s i n t h e Prologue to " Henry V " 
evidence. . . 

that refer to the expedition of the Earl of 

Essex to Ireland in 1599. More often it deals with con- 
siderations of the metre, language, and form of the work 
itself. By studying such matters as classical allusions, 
the use of Latin words, kinds of figures of speech, puns, 
variations of verse and prose, and many other changing 
peculiarities of the poet's method, scholars have been able 
to trace the development of Shakespeare as a writer, and 
thus assign many of his plays to their probable year on no 
other evidence than their style. For instance, the date of 
-Julius Caesar" is generally agreed to be not earlier than 
1601 from the poet's use of the word "eternal" in the 
phrase "the eternal devil." As late as 1600 Shakespeare 
was using " infernal " in such expressions, but after that 
year he began to use " eternal," owing probably to the 
increasing objection among Puritans of London to the 
use of profanity on the stage. Even such a simple matter 
as the number of rhyming lines in a play may help to 

144 



Plays and Poems. 

place it approximately. In " Love's Labour's Lost," the 
earliest of the comedies, there are 1028 rhymes ; whereas 
in " The Winter's Tale " and " The Tempest," written 
twenty years later, there are none and two respectively. 
It is therefore safe to assume that as Shakespeare's style 
developed he used rhyme less and less, so that tragedies 
with but few rhyming lines, such as " Antony and Cleo- 
patra " and " Coriolanus," may be assigned, if on no other 
ground, to the later years of his life. Such matters of 
structure and style are by no means always certain. They 
are delicate to handle and require sound judgment and 
long experience. Yet it is by this sort of internal evi- 
dence, rather than by external facts, that the chronology 
of the plays has been determined. 

The following table gives the result of research and 
comparison, of proof and conjecture, on the part of Shake- 
spearean scholars. There still remain, of 

course, many differences of opinion ; some of "°" aMe 

' J . . ' r dates of the 

the dates are less certain than others ; a few p i ays 

are almost entirely the result of guesswork. 
Yet when we consider the meagre data upon which stu- 
dents have built their conclusions, their lack of agreement 
seems remarkably slight and insignificant. 

Of the thirty-seven plays in the following table, the 
sixteen which appeared in Quarto editions during the 
poet's life were "Titus Andronicus," 1594; 
" Richard II," " Richard III," and " Romeo printed 
and Juliet," 1597 ; " 1 Henry IV " and " Love's before 
Labour's Lost," 1598; "The Merchant of 1623 ' 
Venice," "Henry V," "Much Ado About Nothing," 
" 2 Henry IV," and "A Midsummer Night's Dream," 
1600 ; " The Merry Wives of Windsor," 1602 ; " Hamlet," 

*45 





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Appendix. 

1603 ; " King Lear," 1608 ; " Troilus and Cressida," and 

" Pericles," 1609. In addition to these, a Quarto of 

" Othello " was printed in 1622. The other twenty plays 

were not published, so far as we know, until 1623, when 

Heminge and Condell included them in the First Folio. 

The periods shdwn in the table are, of course, wholly 

artificial. Shakespeare himself had no such division of 

„ . , „ his works in mind, and it is dangerous for us 
Periods of . 

Shake- to-day to press very far the suggestion of 

speare's de- clearly defined compartments for the plays. 

velopment. The development of the dramatist, like that 

of any artist, was gradual. Changes in style, in method, 

in views of life took place not in a single year, but were 

the result of slowly expanding power and growth of 

character. In that growth there were no sudden breaks 

or unaccountable transformations. The mind that created 

"Hamlet" in 1602 was the same mind that created 

" Twelfth Night " in 1600, no matter how black the line 

that separates them into two different periods. Yet a 

glance at the divisions in the table reveals two or three 

interesting facts. 

When Shakespeare has gained a foothold in the London 

theatres he first turns his hand to old plays, touching them 

up, remodelling, and improving. This is his 
■Luc y6£trs 

of experi- natural work as an apprentice playwright. As 
merit, 1590- he gains confidence and strikes out for him- 
self, he experiments with all the forms of play- 
writing that then are known. Thus in " Love's Labour's 
Lost " we find one of the very few works the plot of which 
is his own invention; in "The Comedy of Errors" and 
" The Two Gentlemen of Verona " he imitates the Latin 
comedies of Plautus ; in " Richard III " and " King John " 

148 



Plays and Poems. 

he attempts historical tragedy, and in " Romeo and Juliet " 
he gives us tragedy, full of romance and passion, drawn 
from Italy whence so many of his stories of later years 
are to come. The four years from 1590 to 1593 are evi- 
dently years of feeling about, testing himself, and experi- 
menting. Naturally he writes with great rapidity : he is 
full of enthusiasm and the impetuous rush of youth. All 
that he does shows signs of a beginner and an unsettled 
purpose. We therefore do not expect to find highly fin- 
ished work. As a matter of fact, with the exception of 
" Romeo and Juliet " and " Richard III," none of the 
plays of this early period are acted on the stage to-day or 
often read. 

It is now that Shakespeare writes his two long story 
poems, — "Venus and Adonis " in 1593 and " Lucrece " 

in 1 kqa. In them he retells classical legends 

, , . The poems, 

taken chiefly from the Roman poet Ovid. 

Their elaborate and florid language reminds us of similar 
narrative poems of the period. In their spirit and style 
they resemble the early plays, but in one important respect 
they differ : they are published with their author's name on 
the title-page. Unlike the Quartos of the dramas, Shake- 
speare prepares these poems for the press. Their popu- 
larity surpasses even that of the comedies. Seven editions 
of "Venus and Adonis" are issued between 1593 and 
1602, and five of "Lucrece" between 1594 and 1616. 
Among the reading public of his day he becomes more 
widely known by them than by his work for the stage. 
He is now, in the eyes of the learned world, an author 
and creator of real literature. 

By 1594 the years of apprenticeship are over; Shake- 
speare has found where his powers lie. He is still young 

1 49 



Appendix. 

and ardent ; the sadder and more serious things of 
life have not yet come to him ; he sympathizes with the 
The great demands of the London populace to be amused. 
cDmedies, The results are the last of the histories and 
1594-1600. seven years of comedies, — the fullest, and 
we may well believe, the happiest time of his life as a 
dramatist. His power of expression, his skill in con- 
structing a play, — above all, his keen insight into human 
nature, — ■ develop with astonishing rapidity, until he is 
the favorite playwright of his day. In wit and enthusi- 
asm, in pure poetry and " gusto," in creation of interesting 
and delightful character, the plays from " A Midsummer 
Night's Dream " to " Twelfth Night " stand unmatched. 
Not one of them has faded after three hundred vears : 
they still are acted and read with profit and pleasure. 
Together they form "the rich period of unsurpassable 
comedy." 

But youth and rollicking fun, high spirits and unbroken 
happiness, do not last. With the end of the century comes 
The great a turning-point in Shakespeare's life. Per- 
tragedies, haps it is personal grief and suffering ; possi- 
1601-1609. D iy ^ is poor health and for the first time the 
thought that his own death may not be far away ; pos- 
sibly it is disappointment in his friends or his ambitions ; 
or it may be simply a deeper wisdom coming with maturer 
years that now begins to make him think more and more 
of the greater and more serious things of life. The pas- 
sions, the temptations, the moral struggles of mankind 
now absorb his interest. Naturally, comedy and history 
are inadequate for the expression of these deeper thoughts 
and emotions. With " Julius Caesar " begin the great 
tragedies, that " series of spectacles of the pity and terror 

I 5 



Plays and Poems. 

of human suffering and human sin without parallel in the 
modern world." 1 Even the three comedies of these years 
are comedies only in name. Throughout them there is 
the atmosphere of suffering and sin. Their theme and 
spirit are more in keeping with " Hamlet " and " King- 
Lear " than with the merrymaking and joyous fun of " As 
You Like It " and " A Midsummer Night's Dream." Thus 
every play of this period has a tragic motive, for during 
its nine years the mind and heart of the poet are con- 
cerned with the saddest and deepest things of human 
life. • 

In 1609, toward the close of this period of tragedy, 
Shakespeare prints his volume of sonnets, one hundred 

and fifty-four in number. Some of them must 

. . The sonnets, 

have been written much earlier. Their style 

and youthful spirit show that ; but besides, as early as 
1598, Francis Meres spoke of Shakespeare's " sugred Son- 
nets among his private friends." Yet many of them show 
such power, such masterful handling of profound thought, 
such noble poetic form, that they seem to come from the 
years that produced " Hamlet " and " Othello." Probably 
the poet has been writing them off and on ever since he 
came to London, and now in 1609 he puts them at last 
into book form. It is well that he does so ; for to-day 
every one who enjoys poetry reads them with delight. 
Unlike " Venus and Adonis " and " Lucrece " they do not 
fade ; they are among the most perfect sonnets in our lan- 
guage, and they contain some of the finest lines that ever 
came from Shakespeare's pen. Here are two of the most 
admired : 

1 " The Facts about Shakespeare," Neilson and Thorndike. The Mac- 
millan Company, 1915. 



Appendix. 

29. 

When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes, 
I all alone beweep my outcast state 
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries 
And look upon myself and curse my fate, 
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, 
Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd, 
Desiring this man's art and that man's scope, 
With what I most enjoy contented least ; 
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, 
Haply I think on thee, and then my state, 
Like to the lark at break of day arising 
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate ; 
For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings 
That then I scorn to change my state with kings. 

116. 

Let me not to the marriage of true minds 

Admit impediments. Love is not love 

Which alters when it alteration finds, 

Or bends with the remover to remove : 

O, no ! it is an ever-fixed mark 

That looks on tempests and is never shaken ; 

It is the star to every wandering bark, 

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken ; 

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks 

Within his bending sickle's compass come ; 

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, 

But bears it out even to the edge of doom. 

If this be error and upon me proved, 

I never writ, nor no man ever loved. 

The storm and stress of tragedy, however, does not con- 
tinue to the end. In the last years Shakespeare turns 

152 



Plays and Poems. 

away from the bitterness and sorrow of life, and leaves 
us as his final message three romantic comedies of de- 
lightful charm. The calm and quiet humor of T k e i a t er 
these plays is very different from the boisterous comedies, 
farce of "The Merry Wives of Windsor" and 1610-1612. 
the buffoonery of the clowns in the earlier dramas ; but 
their beauty and sweetness and idealism make a happy 
and fitting close to the poet's work. In " Henry VIII," 
which shows brilliant flashes of his genius, and in " The 
Two Noble Kinsmen," which is not generally included 
among his plays, he writes in collaboration with John 
Fletcher, or with some other of the younger dramatists 
of these later years. He has made his fortune ; he knows 
that his work is done ; he is looking fondly toward his 
Stratford home, and so he turns over his place to other 
men. 

First, — -imitating, feeling his way, experimenting, rap- 
idly and eagerly trying everything about him ; then seven 

full years of whole-souled joy of living, enthu- 

Summary, 
siasm, laughter, and fun ; then deeper emo- 
tions and profound thought upon the saddest and most 
serious things of life ; then a happier time of calm reflec- 
tion and repose, followed by retirement from active work 
in London to the peaceful village home on the Avon ; 
then, after four quiet years, the end. Thus, in a way, we 
begin to understand the development of Shakespeare's 
mind and character by a study of the years in which he 
wrote his plays and poems. 



153 



SHAKESPEARE^S POPULARITY IN HIS OWN DAY 

There somehow exists a quite general feeling that 

Shakespeare's genius was not properly appreciated in his 

own time ; that dramatists, now ranked far 

below him, were more popular with audiences 
speare ' . 

widely ap- in the days of Queen Elizabeth and King 
predated in James I. Whether this notion comes from the 

,.l s /? wn * scarcity of facts which we have concerning the 
lifetime. ... . 

poet's life, it is hard to say. Certainly such a 

belief must be ranked among the most unfortunate of 
popular errors. There is ample evidence to show that 
he was not only popular with uneducated London trades- 
men and apprentices who thronged the pit of the Globe, 
but in the best critical judgment of the day he was con- 
sidered the first of poets and dramatists. " Throughout 
his lifetime," says Sidney Lee, "and for a generation 
afterwards, his plays drew crowds to pit, boxes, and gal- 
lery alike. It is true that he was one of a number of 
popular dramatists, many of whom had rare gifts, and all 
of whom glowed with a spark of genuine literary fire. 
But Shakespeare was the sun in the firmament : when his 
light shone, the fires of all contemporaries paled in the 
playgoer's eye." 1 

Many bits of evidence have come down to us that show 
how high a place in people's hearts the plays of Shake- 
Evidences speare held in their author's lifetime. For 
of his popu- instance, when he had been in London but ten 
larity. years he was summoned by Queen Elizabeth 

to play before her and the court at Greenwich in the 

1 Sidney Lee : " Shakespeare and the Elizabethan Playgoer." 

i54 



Popularity. 

Christmas holidays. The favor which King James showed 
his tragedies is well known. "Hamlet" was acted 
several times in the first year of its production, both in 
London and at Oxford and Cambridge. Four editions 
were printed in eight years, — an unusual demand for 
those times. Moreover, the name of Shakespeare ap- 
pears in the works of contemporary authors more than 
that of any other dramatist, and almost invariably it is 
coupled with praise and admiration. He is the " mellif- 
luous " and " honey-tongued " poet. One sets him above 
Plautus and Seneca ; another prefers him to Chaucer, 
Gower, and Spenser ; another declares that " he puts them 
all down, ay, and Ben Jonson, too." In the preface of the 
first complete edition of his plays, published seven years 
after his death, the compilers, who were his fellow-actors 
and friends, wrote of him that he was one " who as he was 
a happie imitator of Nature, was a most gentle expresser 
of it. His mind and hand went together ; and what he 
thought, he uttered with that easinesse that wee have 
scarse received from him a blot in his papers. But it is 
not our province, who onely gather his works and give 
them you ; to praise him. It is yours that reade him. 
And there we hope, to your divers capacities, you will finde 
enough both to draw and hold you ; for his wit can no 
more lie hid than it could be lost. Reade him, therefore ; 
and againe and againe ; and if then you doe not like him, 
surely you are in some manifest danger not to understand 

him -" BenJon- 

A part of the introductory material of this son's praise 

First Folio edition of the plays consists of of Snake_ 

poems of praise contributed by the poet's 

admirers. Among the most famous are the noble lines 

155 



Appendix. 

of Ben Jonson, scholar, poet, and dramatist. Here are 
the words of a thoughtful critic who knew the theatre from 
the stage and from the audience, — a man who had been 
associated with Shakespeare throughout his London career 
and who understood, better than any other, his place in the 
hearts of English people. 



TO THE MEMORY OF MY BELOVED MASTER WILLIAM 
SHAKESPEARE AND WHAT HE HATH LEFT US 

To draw no envy, Shakespeare, on thy name, 
Am I thus ample to thy book and fame ; 
While I confess thy writings to be such, 
As neither Man nor Muse can praise too much. 



Soul of the age ! 
The applause, delight, the wonder of our stage ! 
My Shakespeare, rise ! I will not lodge thee by 
Chaucer, or Spenser, or bid Beaumont lie 
A little further to make thee a room : 
Thou art a monument without a tomb, 
And art alive still while thy book doth live, 
And we have wits to read, and praise to give. 
That I not mix thee so my brain excuses, — 
I mean with great, but disproportioned Muses ; 
For if I thought my judgment were of years, 
I should commit thee surely with thy peers, 
And tell how far thou didst our Lyly outshine, 
Or sporting Kyd, or Marlowe's mighty line. 
And though thou hadst small Latin and less Greek 
From thence to honour thee I would not seek 

156 



Popularity. 



For names, but call forth thund'ring .^Eschylus, 

Euripides and Sophocles to us, 

Pacuvius, Accius, him of Cordova dead, 

To life again to hear thy buskin tread, 

And shake a stage ; or when thy socks were on, 

Leave thee alone for a comparison 

Of all that insolent Greece or haughty Rome 

Sent forth, or since did from their ashes come. 

Triumph, my Britain, thou hast one to show, 

To whom all scenes of Europe homage owe. 

He was not of an age, but for all time ! 

And all the Muses still were in their prime, 

When, like Apollo, he came forth to warm 

Our ears, or like a Mercury to charm ! 

Nature herself was proud of his designs, 

And joyed to wear the dressing of his lines, 

Which were so richly spun, and woven so fit, 

As, since, she will vouchsafe no other wit. 

The merry Greek, tart Aristophanes, 

Neat Terence, witty Plautus, now not please ; 

But antiquated and deserted lie, 

As they were not of Nature's family. 

Yet must I not give Nature all ; thy Art, 

My gentle Shakespeare, must enjoy a part. 

For though the poet's matter nature be, 

His art doth give the fashion ; and that he 

Who casts to write a living line, must sweat 

(Such as thine are) and strike the second heat 

Upon the Muses' anvil, turn the same, 

And himself with it, that he thinks to frame ; 

Or for the laurel he may gain to scorn ; 

For a good poet's made, as well as born. 

iS7 



Appendix. 

And such wert thou ! Look how the father's face 

Lives in his issue, even so the race 

Of Shakespeare's mind and manners brightly shines 

In his well turned and true filed lines, 

In each of which he seems to shake a lance, 

As brandished at the eyes of ignorance. 

Sweet Swan of Avon ! what a sight it were 

To see thee in our waters yet appear, 

And make those flights upon the banks of Thames, 

That so did take Eliza and our James ! 

But stay, I see thee in the hemisphere 

Advanced, and made a constellation there ! 

Shine forth, thou Star of Poets, and with rage 

Or influence chide or cheer the drooping stage, 

Which, since thy flight from hence, hath mourned like 

night, 
And despairs day but for thy volume's light. 

Even without these lines and numerous other bits of 
unqualified praise from contemporary pens, the fact that 
the plays were financially successful, and that from them 
their author made for those times a small fortune, shows 
us that Shakespeare was truly appreciated by all sorts of 
people in his own day. Before his death he had taken 
the place which he now holds, — that of the foremost of 
English poets and dramatists. 



i 5 8 



SHAKESPEARE'S FAME SINCE HIS DEATH 

During the three hundred years since Shakespeare's 
death the popularity of his plays on the stage has natu- 
rally varied somewhat with the changing taste 
of the times. Toward the end of his life a speare on 
decline in the drama had begun, so that the the stage 
generation which followed was more pleased smce 1616 - 
by the coarse blood-and-thunder tragedies of Webster, 
Ford, and Massinger than by the more profound and more 
artistic work of Shakespeare. Certain ones of the plays 
that very early ceased to be popular on the stage have 
never since come into favor. Most of the histories, two 
or three of the earliest comedies, " All's Well That Ends 
Well," "Measure for Measure," "Pericles," "Timon of 
Athens," "Troilus and Cressida," and " Coriolanus " have 
seldom been acted since they were first produced. The 
subjects of some of these are not suitable to present in a 
modern theatre ; in others, as in the histories, there is not 
enough action or dialogue to satisfy an audience to-day. 
Yet these make but a small portion of the poet's work. 
With the exception of the twenty years, 1 640-1 660, when 
all theatres in England were closed under the censorship 
of Cromwell's Puritan Government, there never has been 
an age that has not had the opportunity to see its fore- 
most actors in the greater comedies and tragedies that 
came from Shakespeare's pen. 

During the reign of Charles II, in the period known as 
the Restoration, and for the forty years that followed, 
literary taste was at its lowest mark. Naturally Shake- 
speare suffered at a time when the coarse and artificial 

J 59 



Appendix. 

plays of Wycherley, Vanbrugh, and Farquahar fascinated 

both the nobility and the common people of London. 

His dramas, to be sure, were still presented 
Th.6 feelini? 

k on tne sta S e ' but they were generally worked 

speare over, or even rewritten, to suit the strange 

during the fancies of the age. With music, new scenes, 

Restora- anc j new c h arac t ers they were mutilated almost 

tion, 1660- _ , . . J . ' . 

1740. beyond recognition. ±*rom one point or view 

they were spoiled ; yet it is significant that 
even to the theatre-goers of 1680 they still had enough 
vitality and imaginative power to be made the foundation 
of popular and successful entertainments. Dryden, the 
chief poet of the time, admired the genius of their author, 
and wrote prefaces for them in their renovated form. 
Betterton, the greatest actor of the age, was regarded at his 
best as the Prince in " Hamlet," a part which he played on 
many occasions, and always to enthusiastic houses. Sam- 
uel Pepys, who kept a remarkable diary between 1661 and 
1669, records in his journal three hundred and fifty-one 
visits to the London theatres during these eight years. 
On forty-one of these occasions he saw plays by Shake- 
speare, or plays based upon them. Though Pepys was 
entirely unable to appreciate the poetry and all the finer 
qualities of what he heard, — he speaks in especially 
slighting terms of the comedies, — still it is interesting 
to know that he had even the opportunity, in eight 
short years, to witness fourteen different works of the 
great Elizabethan dramatist. This, too, in England's 
darkest age of literary appreciation ! 

The middle of the eighteenth century saw a new and 
genuine enthusiasm for Shakespeare. Scholars began to 
study his life and his work. New editions were published, 

160 



Fame. 

with notes and comment. The plays were revived on the 
stage in their original and true form. A great interest in 
all that he had said and thought was born, — 
an interest which grew through the years that actors in 
followed, and still is growing. The foremost Shake- 
actors of all times have turned to him for their s P eare s 

plays, 
most ambitious work, and the crowning of 

their professional achievement. Perhaps the greatest of 
them all was David Garrick. " From his first triumph in 
Richard III, in 1741, to his farewell performance of Lear in 
1776, he won a series of signal successes in both tragedy 
and comedy, in Hamlet, Lear, Macbeth, Richard III, 
Falconbridge, Romeo, Hotspur, Iago, Leontes, Posthu- 
mus, Benedick, and Antony. Garrick's services to Shake- 
speare extended beyond the parts which he impersonated. 
He revived many plays, and though he garbled the texts 
freely, yet in comparison with earlier practice he really 
had some right to boast that he had restored the text of 
Shakespeare to the stage. Further, his example led to an 
increased popularity of Shakespeare in the theatre and 
afforded new incentives for other actors. Mrs. Clive, 
Mrs. Cibber, and Mrs. Pritchard were among the women 
who acted with Garrick. Macklin, by his revival of Shy- 
lock as a tragic character, Henderson, by his impersona- 
tion of Falstaff, and John Palmer in secondary characters, 
as Iago, Mercutio, Touchstone, and Sir Tobey, were his 
contemporaries most famous in their day." 1 After Gar- 
rick came Mrs. Kemble, Edmund Kean, Mrs. Siddons, 
Macready, and Booth, — names remembered to-day chiefly 
in • connection with the Shakespearean roles which they 
nobly played. 

1 Neilson and Thorndike : " The Facts about Shakespeare," p. 174. 

l6l 



Appendix. 

Conditions have not changed in our own time. The 
greatest actors of our own generation, Sir Henry Irving, 
Ellen Terry, Helena Modjeska, Ada Rehan, 
speare on Forbes Robertson, Beerbohm Tree, Julia Mar- 
the stage lowe, and Edward Sothern, have been seen at 
to-day. their best in the comedies and tragedies of 

Shakespeare. Even in the twentieth century, with musi- 
cal comedies, vaudeville, and moving-pictures to contend 
with, his plays are presented in greater number than are 
the plays of any other man who has ever lived. Nor are 
they revived merely for the sake of sentiment. They 
draw large audiences of all sorts of people. They still 
pay as purely business undertakings. " The Merchant 
of Venice," "Julius Caesar," "Hamlet," "Macbeth," 
"Twelfth Night," "As You Like It," "A Midsummer 
Night's Dream," " Romeo and Juliet," " The Taming of 
the Shrew," and "The Merry Wives of Windsor" still 
earn money for actors and theatre-managers as they did 
three centuries ago. What is far more important, they 
still give pleasure and amusement, they still stir laughter 
and tears and awaken the imagination as they did at the 
\, Globe in London in the lifetime of their creator. 

Shakespeare, we know, wrote his plays to be acted : to 
him they were distinctly stage productions to be seen and 

_. , heard at the theatre. So little did he think of 

Shake- 
speare's their being read that he apparently had no 

plays read, concern about them in their book form. To- 
as well as da ^ on thg contrar y j though they still are 

presented on the stage, it is in school and 
college classrooms, in libraries, and in homes that they 
are chiefly known. New editions are constantly appear- 
ing. Plays and novels that were popular twenty years 

162 



Fame. 

ago are out of print and difficult to find ; the works of 
Shakespeare, in a dozen different forms, are in every 
book-store of England ^and America. Quite apart from 
their acting qualities, they have come to be regarded as 
the highest type of literature in our language. 

This is not the place to give an extensive criticism of 
Shakespeare's works, nor a full analysis of the reasons why 
the world regards them so highly apart from whyShake- 
their value as stage performances. It will be speare 
enough to remind the student that in nothing lives - 
that has ever been written do we find a clearer or more 
faithful portrayal of all the varying moods and emotions 
of human nature. The characters which Shakespeare has 
created live in our minds both as individuals and as types 
of the ideal. He strips away the petty things from life 
and shows us the eternal elements underneath. He has 
that wonderful and rare quality called universality ; for he 
expresses the thoughts and feelings of us all, — the things 
which we know to be great and true. Somewhere in his 
plays everyone finds himself, and the discovery, though he 
may not realize it at the time, makes a lasting impression. 
For Shakespeare is the supreme teacher : he suggests, 
but does not preach, the art of living. Other men have 
done all this. But Shakespeare has left us his wisdom 
and his interpretation of life in a more beautiful and 
stately diction, in phrasing more apt and pleasing, in 
poetry of greater imaginative power, than has ever come 
from the mind of man. 

More books have been written about Shakespeare than 
about any other person who ever lived. 1 This is not surpris- 

1 For titles of those books on Shakespeare most interesting to students 
and teachers, see page 190. 

163 



Appendix. 

ing when we consider that the interest in his plays, which 
has existed now for three centuries, is world-wide, and when 
we remember that the language in which he wrote often 
needs explanation and comment to make it perfectly clear 
to the average reader to-day. Almost every English and 
American poet of note has left a tribute to the greatest 
of all poets. Perhaps the best known are Milton's famous 
Epitaph, printed on page viii of this volume, and Ben Jon- 
son's lines contributed to the First Folio in 1623, which 
are given on page 156. Here are a few other short poems, 
or selections from poems, which give honor and praise to 
those characteristics that have made Shakespeare the in- 
spiration and the guiding-star of poets since Elizabethan 
times. 

James Thomson 

For lofty sense, 
Creative fancy, and inspection keen 
Through the deep windings of the human heart, 
Is not wild Shakespeare thine and Nature's boast ? 

Summer — 1727. 

William Collins 

The temper of our isle, though cold, is clear ; 
And such our genius, noble though severe. 
Our Shakespeare scorn'd the trifling rules of art, 
But knew to conquer and surprise the heart ! 
In magic chains the captive thought to bind, 
And fathom all the depths of human kind ! 

On our Late Taste in Music— 1 7A7- 
164 



Fame. 



Thomas Gray 



Far from the sun and summer gale 
In thy green lap was Nature's Darling laid, 
What time, where lucid Avon stray'd, 

To him the mighty mother did unveil 
Her awful face : the dauntless child 
Stretch'd forth his little arms and smiled. 
" This pencil take (she said), whose colours clear 
Richly paint the vernal year : 
Thine too these golden keys, immortal boy ! 
This can unlock the gates of joy ; 
Of horror that, and thrilling fears, 
Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic tears." 

The Progress of Poesy — 1757. 

Henry Alford 

We stood upon the tomb of him whose praise, 

Time, nor oblivious thrift, nor envy chill, 
Nor war, nor ocean with her severing space, 

Shall hinder from the peopled world to fill ; 
And thus, in fulness of our heart, we cried : 

God's works are wonderful — the circling sky, 
The rivers that with noiseless footing glide, 

Man's firm-built strength, and woman's liquid eye ; 
But the high spirit that sleepeth here below, 

More than all beautiful and stately things, 
Glory to God the mighty Maker brings ; 

To whom alone 'twas given the bounds to know 
Of human action, and the secret springs 

Whence the deep streams of joy and sorrow flow. 

Stratford-upon-Avon — 1837. 

165 



Appendix. 

Elizabeth Barrett Browning 

There Shakespeare, on whose forehead climb 
The crowns o' the world : O eyes sublime 
With tears and laughter for all time ! 

A Vision of Poets — 1844. 

Leigh Hunt 

. . . Humanity's divinest son, 
That sprightliest, gravest, wisest, kindest one . . . 

Thoughts of the Avon — 1844. 

Robert Browning 

— I declare our Poet, him 
Whose insight makes all others dim : 
A thousand Poets pried at life, 
And only one amid the strife 
Rose to be Shakespeare. 

Christmas Eve and Easter Day — 1850. 

Hartley Coleridge 

Great poet, 'twas thy art 
To know thyself, and in thyself to be 
Whate'er love, hate, ambition, destiny, 
Or the firm, fatal purpose of the heart, 
Can make of Man. Yet thou wert still the same, 
Serene of thought, unhurt by thy own flame. 

To Shakespeare — 1851. 
166 



Fame. 



William Wetmore Story 



. . . Shakespeare, whose strong soul could climb 
Steeps of sheer terror, sound the ocean grand 
Of Passion's deeps, or over Fancy's strand 
Trip with his fairies, keeping step and time. 
His, too, the power to laugh out full and clear, 
With unembittered joyance, and to move 
Along the silent, shadowy paths of love 
As tenderly as Dante, whose austere, 
Stern spirit through the worlds below, above, 
Unsmiling strode, to tell their tidings here. 

The Mighty Makers, II— 1851. 

Matthew Arnold 

Others abide our question. Thou art free. 
We ask and ask — thou smilest and art still, 
Out-topping knowledge. For the loftiest hill, 
Who to the stars uncrowns his majesty, 
Planting his steadfast footsteps in the sea, 
Making the heaven of heavens his dwelling-place, 
Spares but the cloudy border of his base 
To the foil'd searching of mortality ; 

And thou, who didst the stars and sunbeams know, 
Self-school'd, self-scann'd, self-honour 'd, self-secure 
Didst tread on earth unguess'd at. — Better so ! 

All pains the immortal spirit must endure, 

All weakness which impairs, all griefs which bow, 

Find their sole speech in that victorious brow. 

Shakespeare — 1867. 
167 



THE THEATRE OF SHAKESPEARE'S DAY 

When Shakespeare left Stratford and went to London, 
theatres were in their infancy. The first one had been 
Popularity built in 1576, when he was a lad of twelve, 
of the first and on his arrival in the city there were but 
theatres. three small wooden structures devoted to the 
production of plays. Enthusiasm for the drama, however, 
was aglow. With the sanction of Queen Elizabeth, her- 
self a lover of pageants and revels, and under the patron- 
age of the powerful Earls of Leicester, Southampton, and 
Rutland, the popular demand for this form of amusement 
grew with amazing rapidity. Theatres shot up one after 
another until in 1633 there were at least nineteen in Lon- 
don, " a number," says Brandes, " which no modern town of 
300,000 inhabitants can equal." Poets, courtiers, scholars, 
— everyone who could write, — turned to the making of 
plays. The art which Shakespeare found in its crude and 
humble beginnings, in the short period of his active life, 
that is, between 1585 and 1610, developed through every 
stage to its highest form, so that never in the three hun- 
dred years that have since elapsed has the drama of the 
Elizabethan days been surpassed. In this development 
Shakespeare was "a pioneer — almost the creator or first 
designer — as well as the practised workman in unmatched 
perfection." 1 

Though the first theatre in England was not erected 
until Shakespeare was twelve years old, long before his 
time there had been many different kinds of simple plays. 
The instinct to act out a story had existed from the child- 

1 Sidney Lee : " Shakespeare and the Elizabethan Playgoer." 

168 



The Theatre. 

hood of the race. With the earliest telling of legends 

and folktales by minstrels and bards there had often been 

occasion for dramatic recital, dialogue, and pi ays 

action. For centuries, too, there had been the before 

solemn mysteries and quaint old moralities. theatres 

i i i r it i it were "built. 

Mummers and bands of strolling players had 

wandered over Europe throughout the Middle Ages. 
The drama, therefore, which flowered in the last half of 
the sixteenth century, was not a new and sudden birth, but 
rather came as the natural outgrowth of centuries of crude 
and humble plays. In the beginning these had been 
closely connected with the service of the church ; in fact, 
they had been a means of religious instruction rather than 
a form of amusement. To understand this more clearly, 
let us compare their origin with that of the Greek drama 
in earlier ages still. 

Many, many centuries before Shakespeare was born, — 
five or six hundred years B.C., — the God Dionysus, or 
Bacchus, was worshipped in Greece at country festivals 
by boisterous groups of men who chanted and marched 
and exchanged bantering jests as they danced about the 
altar and acted out legends connected with the god. 
These actors, who represented the satyr followers of Di- 
onysus, generally were clad in goatskins, whence we have 
our word " tragedy," from the Greek tragos, a r^ Q reli _ 
goat, and tragodia, a goat-song. From these gious origin 
simple beginnings sprang the drama of Greece, of the Greek 

(1 1*9.1113 

which produced ^Eschylus, Sophocles, and 
Euripides. The religious element persisted in ancient 
times much longer than in England, for the plays of the 
Greek dramatists who correspond to Shakespeare were 
still a form of worship. In the center of the orchestra 

169 



Appendix. 

stood the altar of Dionysus, about which the chorus moved 
in solemn procession, chanting and reciting ; before the 
performance began there were sacrifices to the god, and the 
plays were given in the spring on the days of the Diony- 
sian festival. Greek tragedy was therefore not merely an 
entertainment, but a serious religious function. Begin- 
ning as a popular form of Nature worship, it finally be- 
came a means of expression for the most serious and finest 
of Greek thought and wisdom. As it spread from Athens 
to other towns, little by little it ceased to be a religious 
affair, until at last, as it gradually lost its vitality and 
splendor, its relation to the worship of Dionysus entirely 
disappeared. In similar fashion, comedy (from comos, a. 
band of revellers, and ode, a song) developed from the 
ruder, more rustic elements in the worship of the same 
god, though here, as we might expect, the religious ele- 
ment did not persist as long as it did in its greater and 
more serious cousin, tragedy. 

More than eighteen hundred years later, in England, we 
find the beginnings of the drama again closely related to 
English worship. At a time when few of the common 
drama be- people could read, the priests in the churches 
gins in the found no method of teaching their congre- 
gations the stories of the Bible so effective as 
the use of objects and pictures which appealed to the eye. 
The effectiveness of their teaching was enormously in- 
creased when they added movement, action, and talk to 
their picture lessons. Indeed, it was but a step from the 
impressive and beautiful service of the Mass to a dramatic 
presentation, in simple form, of the most solemn scenes 
in religious history. " In this manner the people not only 
heard the story of the Adoration of the Magi and of the 

170 



The Theatre. 

Marriage in Cana, but saw the story in tableau. In 
course of time the persons in these tableaux spoke and 
moved, and then it was but a logical step to the repre- 
sentation dramatically, by the priests before the altar, of 
the striking or significant events in the life of Christ." 1 

Thus in the services of the church at Christmas, Good 
Friday, and Easter were laid the foundations of our 
modern drama. These earliest performances, Tlie Mys _ 
which were called Mysteries, dealt wholly with teries and 
Bible stories, from the Creation to the Day Mira cle 

Til Q TTg 

of Judgment, and with the life of Christ ; but 
as they became more and more popular with the masses, 
a broader field of subjects was sought, and lives of saints 
were used for dramatic material in the Miracle Plays of 
a century later. Not only were the priests the authors of 
both these simple forms of drama, but with the choir boys 
they were also the actors. For many years these plays 
were given on Holy Days and Saints' Days, either at the 
altar in the church itself, or in the enclosure just outside 
its walls. Their object continued to be largely religious 
instruction. In the Miracle plays, however, there were 
opportunities for a good deal of grotesque amusement. 
Incidents in the lives of the saints were not always serious 
or spiritual. The Devil gradually became more or less of 
a comic character. As the performances grew less solemn 
and awe-inspiring, the attitude of the people toward them 
changed. No longer did they attend them to worship, 
but rather to see a show and be amused. Gradually, 
therefore, they became separated from the service of the 
church, until finally they were banished once for all from 
the sacred walls, and but a few years after they had been 

1 W. H. Mabie: " William Shakespeare: Poet, Dramatist, and Man." 

I 7 I 



Appendix. 

given at the altar they were being denounced by the 
priests as base and wicked things. Indeed, the feeling 
that plays are devices and temptations of Satan, which 
still exists, may be traced to the time, four centuries ago, 
when the drama lost favor with the Church. 

The Mysteries and Miracle Plays did not decline in 
popularity when they were abandoned by the various re- 
Trade- ligious orders. On the contrary, with the 
Guilds and greater freedom and larger opportunity which 
the plays. separation from the church gave them, they 
increased rapidly in the people's favor. They were now 
taken up by the trade-guilds which, by the fifteenth cen- 
tury, developed elaborate and systematic methods of pre- 
senting them. Often different groups of tradesmen, such 
as the weavers' guild or the goldsmiths' guild, would unite, 
each band or " company " presenting an act or scene in the 
play to be undertaken. Huge, two-story covered wagons, 
somewhat like our large moving-vans to-day, took the 
place of stage and property-rooms. The actors dressed 
in the enclosed part of the vehicle, and then mounted a 
ladder or some rough stairs to the top story, or roof, where 
they performed their parts. Announced by heralds, — 
sometimes even by proclamation of the Mayor, — these 
pageants, as they were called, were drawn through the 
town on holidays and occasions of special festival. In 
the course of its progress the moving-stage would stop 
several times, — at the corners of the principal streets, in 
a public square, often at the doors of a church or cathe- 
dral. Then the crowd which had been following in its 
wake gathered about it to witness again the drama of 
Adam and Eve and the Garden of Eden, of Noah, the 
flood and the ark, of Pilate and Herod, or one of the 

172 



The Theatre. 

numberless other stories with which they had been famil- 
iar from childhood. 

Miracle Plays and Mysteries were followed by the 
Moralities in which abstract qualities such as Pleasure, 
Slander, Rage, Perseverance, and the Seven 
Deadly Sins took the place of characters from . . 
the Bible. This was a long stride forward. 
Now the field of subjects was greatly enlarged. Origi- 
ality both in writing plays and in producing them was 
now first in demand. Opportunity had come at last for 
the creation of character, and for the use of everyday life 
on the stage. " Everyman," which has often been acted in 
our time, is a good example of what the Moralities at their 
best could be. Like the Miracle plays they were gener- 
ally given by the guilds in marketplaces, enclosures 
of castles, and inn-yards where people could watch them 
from windows and balconies, as well as from the ground 
about the portable stage. Heavy, crude, and dull as these 
old plays now seem to us, they were intensely enjoyed by 
the populace of those far-away simpler times. From the 
eagerness and excitement with which they aw r aited their 
coming to town, or travelled long distances to see them, 
it is evident that a love of acting was inborn in the hearts 
of the people which sooner or later would develop a more 
finished and artistic drama. 

None of the performers in the Mysteries or Miracle 
Plays had been professional actors ; but now with the 
Moralities came the opportunity for men to Acting as a 
make a business of acting. As religious sub- profession; 

jects gradually disappeared from the pageant companies 

, r . . of actors, 

stage, actors by profession came into exist- 
ence. Wandering minstrels and story-tellers, mummers 

173 



Appendix. 

and strolling players, began to join together in troops for 
protection and companionship. " From the days of 
Henry VI onwards, members of the nobility began to en- 
tertain these companies of actors, and Henry VII and 
Henry VIII had their own private comedians. A ' Mas- 
ter of the Revels ' was appointed to superintend musical 
and dramatic entertainments at court." A little later a 
statute of Parliament declared that " all actors who were not 
attached to the service of a nobleman should be treated as 
rogues and vagabonds, or in other words, might be whipped 
out of any town in which they appeared. This decree, 
of course, compelled all actors to enter the service of one 
great man or other, and we see that the aristocracy felt 
bound to protect their art. A large number of the first 
men in the kingdom, during Elizabeth's reign, had each 
his company of actors. The player received from the 
nobleman, whose ' servant ' he was, a cloak bearing the 
arms of the family. On the other hand, he received no 
salary, but was simply paid for each performance given 
before his patron. We must thus conceive Shakespeare 
as bearing on his cloak the arms of Leicester, and after- 
wards of the Lord Chamberlain, until about his fortieth 
year. From 1604 onwards, when the company was pro- 
moted by James I to be His Majesty's Servants, it was 
the Royal arms that he wore." 1 

For many years these companies of professional actors 
had no regular buildings in which to give their perform- 
The first ances. Their plays were presented before 
theatres in their noble patrons in the great halls of their 
London. castles, and occasionally at court for the 

amusement of the king or queen. As late as Shake- 

1 Georg Brandes : " William Shakespeare," page 99. 

J 74 



The Theatre. 

speare's boyhood they were witnessed by the common 
people in the yards of taverns, in the open streets, or 
on village greens. If the actors played in London, either 
in the guild-halls or out of doors, they first had to obtain 
a license from the Lord Mayor for each performance, and 
then they were obliged to surrender half of their receipts 
to the city treasury. These trying conditions, with the 
growing popularity of the drama among all classes, finally 
led in 1576 to the erection of the first building for acting 
purposes. This was called the Theatre. The following 
year the Curtain was erected ; in 1587, the Rose; in 1594, 
the Swan ; and in 1599, the Globe. Once begun they 
shot up with wonderful rapidity. When Shakespeare 
arrived in the city there were but three playhouses ; in 
161 1, when he retired to Stratford, there were probably 
ten or twelve. 

In one sense London even then did not possess a 
theatre, for the early playhouses were not in the city at 
all. They were built on a tract of open land xheloca 
across the Thames, at the further end of Lon- tion of 
don Bridge, outside the walls and well beyond tlle first 
the jurisdiction of the Mayor. The capital 
was then a town of small dimensions, barely a mile square, 
with a population of nearly 200,000 crowded together in 
houses which were constructed largely of wood. The 
streets were narrow, crooked, and muddy. Adequate 
means of fighting fire and disease did not exist. The 
Corporation was therefore strongly opposed to the erection 
of dangerous and inflammable structures upon the few 
vacant spaces within the walls. Moreover, among the 
Puritans, who were coming to be a large and influential 
body, opposition to the drama was growing more marked 

x 75 



Appendix. 

and open ; so that the companies of actors were obliged to 
put up their theatres well beyond the reach of the city's laws. 
Let us now pay a visit to the Globe, to us the most in- 
teresting of all the theatres, for it is here that Shake- 
_ ... speare's company acts, and here many of his 
Theatre: plays are first seen on the stage. We cross 
its exter- the Thames by London Bridge with its lines of 

nal ap- crowded booths and shops and throngs of 

pearance. . ...... . 

bustling tradesmen ; or if it is fine weather we 

take a small boat and are rowed over the river to the 
southern shores. Here on the Bankside, in the part of 
London now called Southwark, beyond the end of the 
bridge, and in the open fields near the Bear Garden, 
stands a roundish, three-story wooden building, so high 
for its size that it looks more like a clumsy, squatty tower 
than a theatre. As we draw nearer we see that it is not 
exactly round after all, but is somewhat hexagonal in 
shape. The walls seem to slant a little inward, giving it 
the appearance of a huge thimble, or cocked hat, with six 
flattened sides instead of a circular surface. There are 
but few small windows and two low shabby entrances. 
The whole structure is so dingy and unattractive that we 
stand before it in wonder. Can this be the place where 
"Hamlet," "The Merchant of Venice," and "Julius 
Caesar " are put on the stage ! 

Our amazement on stepping inside is even greater. 
The first thing that astonishes us is the blue sky over our 
The Globe heads. The building has no roof except a 
Theatre : narrow strip around the edge and a covering 
the in- a t the rear over the back part of the stage. 

The front of the stage and the whole center of 
the theatre is open to the air. Now we see how the in- 

176 




The Globe Theatre 




Interior of an Elizabethan Theatre 
Godfrey's reconstruction of the Fortune Theatre 



The Theatre. 

terior is lighted, though with the sunshine must often come 
rain and sleet and London fog. Looking up and out at 
the clouds floating by, we notice that a flag is flying from 
a short pole on the roof over the stage. This is most im- 
portant, for it is announcing to the city across the river 
that this afternoon there is to be a play. It is bill-board, 
newspaper notice, and advertisement in one : and we may 
imagine the eagerness with which it is looked for among 
the theatre-loving populace of these later .Elizabethan 
years. When the performance begins the flag will be 
lowered to proclaim to all that " the play is on." 

Where, now, shall we sit ? Before us on the ground 
level is a large open space, which corresponds to the 

orchestra circle on the floor of a modern plav- « t . 

r J Seating ar- 

house. But here there is only the flat bare rangements 
earth, trodden down hard, with rushes and in the 
straw scattered over it. There is not a sign theatre: 
ot a seat I ihis is the "yard, or, as it is 
sometimes called, " the pit," where, by paying a penny or 
two, London apprentices, sailors, laborers, and the mixed 
crowd from the streets may stand jostling together. Some 
of the more enterprising ones may possibly sit on boxes 
and stools which they bring into the building with them. 
Among these " groundlings " there will surely be bustling 
confusion, noisy wrangling, and plenty of danger from 
pickpockets ; so we look about us to find a more comfort- 
able place from which to watch the performance. 

On three sides of us, and extending well around the 
stage, are three tiers of narrow balconies. In ^g 
some places these are divided into compart- balconies 
ments, or boxes. The prices here are higher, and boxes - 
varying from a few pennies to half a crown, according to 

177 



Appendix. 

the location. By putting our money into a box held out to 
us, — there are no tickets, — we are allowed to climb the 
crooked wooden stairs to one of these compartments. 
Here we find rough benches and chairs, and above all a 
little seclusion from the throng of men and boys below. 
Along the edge of the stage we observe that there are 
stools, but these places, elevated and facing the audience, 
seem rather conspicuous, and besides the prices are high. 
They will be taken by the young gallants and men of 
fashion of London, in brave and brilliant clothes, with 
light swords at their belts, wide ruffled collars about their 
necks, and gay plumes in their hats. It will be amusing 
to see them show off their fine apparel, and display their 
wit at the expense of the groundlings in the pit, and even 
of the actors themselves. We are safer, however, and 
much more comfortable here in the balcony among the 
more sober, quiet gentlemen of London, who with me- 
chanics, tradesmen, nobles, and shop-keepers have come 
to see the play. 

The moment w r e entered the theatre we were impressed 

by the size of the stage. Looking down upon it from the 

balcony, it seems even larger and very near us. 

1116 SiJclg6. .... 

If it is like the stage of the Fortune it is square, 
as shown in the illustration facing page 176. Here in 
the Globe it is probably narrower at the front than at 
the back, tapering from the rear wall almost to a point. 
Whatever its shape, it is only a roughly-built, high platform, 
open on three sides, and extending halfway into the 
"yard." Though a low railing runs about its edge, there 
are no footlights, — all performances are in the afternoon 
by the light of day which streams down through the open 
top, — and strangest of all there is no curtain. At each 

178 



The Theatre. 

side of the rear we can see a door that leads to the " tir- 
ing-rooms," where the actors dress, and from which they 
make their entrances. These are the "green-rooms " and 
wings of our theatre to-day. Between the doors is a cur- 
tain that now before the play begins is drawn together. 
Later when it is pulled aside, — not upward as cur- 
tains usually are now, — we shall see a shallow recess or 
alcove which serves as a secondary, or inner stage. Over 
this extends a narrow balcony covered by a roof which is 
supported at the front corners by tw r o columns that stand 
well out from the wall. Still higher up, over the inner 
stage, is a sort of tower, sometimes called the " hut," and 
from a pole on this the flag is flying which summons the 
London populace from across the Thames. Rushes are 
strewn over the floor ; there are no drops or wings or 
walls of painted scenery. In its simplicity and bareness 
it reminds us of the rude stage of the strolling players. 
Indeed, the whole interior of the building seems to be but 
an adaptation of the tavern-yard and village-green. 

How, we wonder, can a play like " Julius Caesar " or 
" The Merchant of Venice " be staged on such a crude 
affair as this ! What are the various parts of 

it for ? Practically all acting is done, we shall . * e 

. main stage, 

see, on the front of the platform well out 

among the crowd in the pit, with the audience on three 

sides of the performers. All out-of-door scenes will be 

acted here, from a conversation in the streets of Venice or 

a dialogue in a garden, to a battle, a procession, or a 

banquet in the Forest of Arden. Here, too, with but the 

slightest alteration, or even with no change at all, interior 

scenes will be presented. With the " groundlings " 

crowded close up to its edges, and with young gallants 

179 



Appendix. 

sitting on its sides, this outer stage comes close to the 
people. On it will be all the main action of the drama : 
the various arrangements at the rear are for supplemen- 
tary purposes and certain important effects. 

The inner stage, or alcove beyond the curtain, is used 
in many ways. It may serve for any room somewhat 

removed from the scene of action, such as a 
inner stase P assa g e-wa y or a study. It often is made to 

represent a cave, a shop, or a prison. Here 
Othello, in a frenzy of jealous passion, strangles Desde- 
mona as she Jies in bed ; here probably the ghost of Cae- 
sar appears to Brutus in his tent on the plains of Philippi ; 
here stand the three fateful caskets in the mansion at Bel- 
mont, as we see by Portia's words, 

" Go, draw aside the curtains, and discover 
The several caskets to this noble Prince." 

Tableaux and scenes within scenes, such as the short 
play in " Hamlet " by which the prince " catches the con- 
science of the king," are acted in this recess. But the 
most important use is to give the effect of a change of 
scene. By drawing apart and closing the curtain, with a 
few simple changes of properties in this inner compart- 
ment, a different background is possible. By such a slight 
variation of setting at the rear-, the platform in the pit is 
transformed, by the quick imagination of the spectators, 
from a field or a street to a castle hall or a wood. Thus, 
the whole stage becomes the Forest of Arden by the use of 
a little greenery in the distance. Similarly, a few trees and 
shrubs at the rear of the inner stage, when the curtain is 
thrown aside, will change the setting from the court-room 
in the fourth act of " The Merchant of Venice," to the 

1 80 



The Theatre. 

scene in the garden at Belmont which immediately 
follows. 

The balcony over the inner stage serves an important 
purpose, too. With the windows, which are often just 
over the doors leading to the tiring-rooms, it 

US6S 01 til6 

gives the effect of an upper story in a house, balcony 
of walls in a castle, a tower, or any elevated over the 
position. This is the place, of course, where sta S e - 
Juliet comes to greet Romeo who is in the garden below. 
In " Julius Caesar " when Cassius says, 

" Go Pindarus, get higher on that hill; 

•^fc "^fc ^fe -^fc -^fc "4fc 

"7V* TV ■TV* -7v ■VV "7V* 

And tell me what thou notest about the field," 

the soldier undoubtedly climbs to the balcony, for a mo- 
ment later, looking abroad over the field of battle, he re- 
ports to Cassius what he sees from his elevation. Here 
Jessica appears when Lorenzo calls under Shylock's win- 
dows, " Ho ! who's within ? " and on this balcony she is 
standing when she throws down to her lover a box of her 
father's jewels. " Here, catch this casket ; it is worth the 
pains," she says, and retires into the house, appearing 
below a moment later to run away with Lorenzo and his 
masquerading companions. 

Besides these simple devices, if we look closely enough 
we shall see a trap-door, or perhaps two, in the platform. 
These are for the entrance of apparitions and demons. 
They correspond, in a way, to the balcony by 
giving the effect of a place lower than the stage dev i ces 
level. Thus in the first scene of " The Tem- 
pest," which takes place in a storm at sea, the notion 
of a ship may be suggested to the audience by sailors 

181 



Appendix. 

entering from the trap-door, as they might come up a 
hatchway to a deck. If it is a play with gods and 
goddesses and spirits, we may be startled to see them 
appear and disappear through the air. Evidently there 
is machinery of some sort in the hut over the balcony 
which can be used for lowering and raising deities and 
creatures that live above the earth. On each side of the 
stage is a flight of steps leading to the balcony. These are 
often covered, as plainly shown by Mr. Godfrey's reconstruc- 
tion of the Fortune Theatre facing page 176. Here sit 
councils, senates, and princes with their courts. Macbeth 
uses them to give the impression of ascending to an upper 
chamber when he goes to kill the king, and down them he 
rushes to his wife after he has committed the fearful murder. 
What astonishes us most, however, is the absence of 
scenery. To be sure, some slight attempt has been made 

to create scenic illusion. There are, perhaps, 
+t, q „v„„ a few trees and boulders, a table, a chair or 

two, and pasteboard dishes of food. But 
there is little more. In the only drawing of the interior of 
an Elizabethan theatre that has been preserved, — a sketch 
of the Swan made in 1596, — the stage has absolutely no 
furniture except one plain bench on which one of the actors 
is sitting. Here before us in the Globe the walls may be 
covered with loose tapestries, black if the play is to be a 
tragedy, blue if a comedy ; but it is quite possible that 
they are entirely bare. A placard on one of the pillars 
announces that the stage is now a street in Venice, now a 
courtroom, now the hall of a stately mansion. It may be 
that the Prologue, or even the actors themselves, will tell 
us at the opening of an act just where the scene is laid 
and what we are to imagine the platform to represent. 

182 



The Theatre. 

In "Henry V,"' for instance, the Prologue at the begin- 
ning not only explains the setting of the play, but asks 
forgiveness of the audience for attempting to put on the 
stage armies and battles and the " vasty fields of France." 

" But pardon, gentles all, 
The flat unrais^d spirit that hath dared 
On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth 
So great an object. Can this cockpit hold 
The vasty fields of France ? or may we cram 
Within this wooden O the very casques 
That did affright the air at Agincourt ? 
O, pardon ! since a crooked figure may 
Attest in little place a million ; 
And let us, ciphers to this great accompt, 
On your imaginary forces work. 
Suppose within the girdle of these walls 
Are now confined two mighty monarchies, 
Whose high-upreared and abutting fronts 
The perilous, narrow ocean parts asunder. 
Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts ; 
Into a thousand parts divide one man, 
And make imaginary puissance. 
' Think, when we talk of horses, that you see them 
Printing their proud hoofs i' the receiving earth, 
For 'tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings, 
Carry them here and there, jumping o'er times, 
Turning the accomplishment of many years 
Into an hour-glass." 

In "As You Like It " it is an actor who tells us at the 
opening of the second act that we are now to imagine the 
Forest of Arden before us. In the first sentence which 

183 



Appendix. 

the banished Duke speaks, he says, " Are not these woods 
more free from peril than the envious court ? " and a mo- 
ment later, when Touchstone and the runaway maidens 
first enter the woods, Rosalind exclaims, " Well, this is 
the Forest of Arden ! " A hint, a reference, a few simple 
contrivances, a placard or two, — these are enough. 
" Imaginary forces " are here in the audience keenly alive, 
and they will do the rest. By means of them, without the 
illusion of scenery, the bare wooden stage will become a 
ship, a garden, a palace, a London tavern. Whole armies 
will enter and retire by a single door. Battles will rage, 
royal processions pass in and out, graves will be dug, 
lovers will woo, — and all with hardly an important alter- 
ation of the setting. Lack of scenery does not limit the 
type of scenes that can be presented. On the contrary, 
it gives almost unlimited opportunities to the dramatist, 
for the spectators, in the force and freshness of their im- 
agination, are children who willingly " play " that the stage 
is anything the author suggests. Their youthful enthusi- 
asm, their simple tastes, above all their lack of knowledge 
of anything different, give them the enviable power of imag- 
ining the grandest, most beautiful, and most varied scenes 
on the same bare, unadorned boards. Apparently they 
are well satisfied with their stage ; for it is not until 
nearly fifty years after Shakespeare's death that movable 
scenery is used in an English theatre. 

It is now three o'clock and time for the performance to 
begin. Among the motley crowd of men and boys in the 
The per- yard there is no longer room for another box 
formanceof or stool. They are evidently growing im- 
a play. patient and jostle together in noisy confusion. 

Suddenly three long blasts on a trumpet sound. The 

184 



The Theatre. 

mutterings in the pit subside, and all eyes turn toward 
the stage. First an actor, clothed in a black mantle and 
wearing a laurel wreath on his head, comes from behind 
the curtain and recites the prologue. From it we learn 
something of the story of the play to follow, and possibly 
a little about the scene of action. This is all very wel- 
come, for we have no programs and the plot of the drama 
is unfamiliar. In a minute or two the Prologue retires 
and the actors of the first scene enter. We are soon im- 
pressed by the rapidity with which the play moves on. 
There is little stage "business"; though there may be 
some music between the acts, still there are no long waits ; 
one scene follows another as quickly as the actors can 
make their exits and entrances. The whole play, there- 
fore, does not last much over two hours. At the close 
there is an epilogue, spoken by one of the actors, after 
which the players kneel and join in a prayer for the 
queen. Then comes a final bit of amusement for the 
groundlings : the clown, or some other comic character of 
the company, sings a popular song, dances a brisk and 
boisterous jig, and the performance of the day is done. 

During our novel experience this afternoon at the 
Globe, nothing has probably surprised us more than the 
elaborate and gorgeous costumes of the actors, costumes 
At a time when so little attention is paid to of the 
scenery we naturally expect to find the dress actors - 
of the players equally simple and plain. But we are 
mistaken. The costumes, to be sure, make little or no 
pretension to fit the period or place of action. Caesar 
appears in clothes such as are worn by a duke or an earl 
in 1601. "They are the ordinary dresses of various 
classes of the day, but they are often of rich material, and 

185 



Appendix. 

in the height of current fashion. False hair and beards, 
crowns and sceptres, mitres and croziers, armour, hel- 
mets, shields, vizors, and weapons of war, hoods, bands, 
and cassocks, are relied on to indicate among the charac- 
ters differences of rank or profession. The foreign ob- 
server, Thomas Platter of Basle, was impressed by the 
splendor of the actors' costumes. ' The players wear the 
most costly and beautiful dresses, for it is the custom in 
England, that when noblemen or knights die, they leave 
their finest clothes to their servants, who, since it would 
not be fitting for them to wear such splendid garments, 
sell them soon afterwards to the players for a small 
sum.' " x But no money is spared to secure the fitting gar- 
ment for an important part. Indeed, it is quite probable 
that more is paid for a king's velvet robe or a prince's 
silken doublet than is given to the author for the play 
itself. Whether the elaborate costumes are appropriate 
or not, their general effect is pleasing, for they give variety 
and brilliant color to the bare and unattractive stage. 

If we are happily surprised by the costuming of the 
play, what shall we say of the actors who take the female 
Female parts ! They are very evidently not women, or 

parts taken even girls, but boys whose voices have not 
by boys. changed, dressed, tricked out, and trained to 
appear as feminine as possible. It is considered un- 
seemly for a woman to appear on a public stage, — in- 
deed, the professional actress does not exist and will not 
be seen in an English theatre for nearly a century. 
Meanwhile plays are written with few female parts (re- 
member " The Merchant of Venice," " Julius Caesar," and 
" Macbeth ") and young boys are trained to take these 

1 Sidney Lee : " Shakespeare and the Modern Stage," page 41. 

186 



The Theatre. 

i roles. The theatregoers seem to enjoy the performance 
just as much as we do to-day with mature and accom- 
[plished actresses on the stage. Shakespeare and his 
fellow dramatists treated the situation with good grace or 
indifference. Thus in the epilogue of " As You Like It " 
Rosalind says to the audience, " If I were a woman I would 
kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased me." The 
jest, of course, consists in the fact that she is not a woman 
at all, but a stripling. In a more tragic vein Cleopatra, 
before she dies, complains that " the quick comedians . . . 
will stage us, . . . and I shall see some squeaking Cleopatra 
boy my greatness." It may be that the boys who take the 
women's parts this afternoon wear masks to make them 
seem less masculine, though how that can improve the 
situation it is difficult to understand. There is an amus- 
ing reference to this practice in " A Midsummer Night's 
Dream." When Flute, the bellows-mender, is assigned a 
part in the drama which the mechanics of Athens are 
rehearsing, he exclaims, " Nay, faith, let not me play a 
woman ; I have a beard coming " ; to which protest Quince 
replies, " That's all one : you shall play it in a mask, and 
you may speak as small as you will." 

Though rapid action, brilliant costumes, and, above all, 
the force and beauty of the lines, may lead us to forget 
that the heroine is only a boy, it is more diffi- 
cult to keep our attention from being distracted audience 
by the audience around us. It surprises us at the 
that there are so few women present. We ei0 " e - 
notice, too, that many of those who have come wear a 
mask of silk or velvet over their faces. Evidently it is 
hardly the proper thing for a respectable woman to be 
seen in a public theatre. The people in the balconies are 

187 



Appendix. 

fairly orderly, but below in the pit the crowd is restless, 
noisy, and at times even boisterous. Bricklayers, dock- 
laborers, apprentices, serving-men, and idlers stand in 
jostling confusion. There are no police and no laws that 
are enforced. Pickpockets ply an active trade. One, 
we see, has been caught and is bound to the railing at the 
edge of the stage where he is an object of coarse jests and 
ridicule. Refreshment-sellers push about in the throng 
with apples and sausages, nuts and ale. There is much 
eating and drinking and plenty of smoking. On the stage 
the gallants are a constant source of bother to the players. 
They interrupt the Prologue, criticise the dress of the 
hero, banter the heroine, and joke with the clown. 
Even here in the gallery we can hear their comments — 
far from flattering — upon a scene that does not please 
them ; when a little later they applaud, their praises are 
just as vigorous. Once it seems as though the play is 
going to be brought to a standstill by a wrangling quarrel 
between one of these rakish gentlemen and a group of 
groundlings near the stage. Their attention, however, is 
taken by the entrance of the leading actor declaiming a 
stirring passage, and their differences are soon forgotten. 
It is, on the whole, a good-natured rough crowd of the 
common people, the lower and middle classes from the 
great city across the river, — more like the crowd one sees 
to-day at a circus or a professional ball-game than at a 
theatre of the highest type. They loudly cheer the clown's 
final song and dance, and then with laughter, shouting, 
and jesting they pour out of the yard and in a moment 
the building is empty. The play is over until to-morrow 
afternoon. 

What a contrast it all has been to a play in a theatre of 

188 



The Theatre. 

the twentieth century ! When we think of the uncomfort- 
able benches, the flat bare earth of the pit, the lack of 
scenery, footlights, and drop curtains ; when we hear the 
shrill voices of boys piping the women's parts, and see 
mist and rain falling on spectator's heads, we are in- 
clined to pity the playgoer of Elizabethan conclusions 
times. Yet he needs no pity. To him the to be 
theatre of his day was sufficient. The drama drawn - 
enacted there was a source of intense and genuine pleas- 
ure. His keen enthusiasm ; his fresh, youthful eagerness ; 
above all, his highly imaginative power, — far greater 
than ours to-day, — gave him an ability to understand and 
enjoy the poetry and dramatic force of Shakespeare's 
works, which we, w 7 ith all the improvements of our palatial 
theatres, cannot equal. Crude, simple, coarse as they 
now seem to us, we can look back only with admiration 
upon the Swan and the Curtain and the Globe ; for in 
them "The Merchant of Venice," " As You Like It," 
" Julius Caesar," " Hamlet," and " Macbeth " were re- 
ceived with acclamations of joy and wonder. In them 
the genius of Shakespeare was recognized and given a 
place in the drama of England which now, after three cen- 
turies have passed, it holds in the theatres and in the 
literature of all the world. 



189 



BOOKS OF INTEREST TO STUDENTS OF 
SHAKESPEARE 

[A bibliography of works on Shakespeare would make a 
volume of considerable size. Here are a few of the most 
useful books for students and teachers.] 

William Shakespeare : A Critical Study. 

George Brandes. The Macmillan Co. 

A Life of William Shakespeare. 

Sidney Lee. The Macmillan Co. 
The Facts about Shakespeare. 

Neilson and Thorndike. The Macmillan Co. 

William Shakespeare : Poet, Dramatist, and Man. 

H. W. Mabie. The Macmillan Co. 
Shakespeare and the Modern Stage. 

Sidney Lee. Charles Scribner's Sons. 
Introduction to Shakespeare. 

Edward Dowden. Charles Scribner's Sons. 
Shakespeare. 

Walter Raleigh. The Macmillan Co. 
William Shakespeare. 

John Masefield. Henry Holt & Co. 
Shakespeare : The Boy. 

W. J. Rolfe. Harper Bros. 
Handbook to the Works of Shakespeare. 

Morton Luce. George Bell & Sons. 
190 



Books of Interest. 

Shakespeare : his Life, Art, and Characters. 

Rev. H. N. Hudson. Ginn & Co^ 
Shakespeare' 's England. 

William Winter. Moffat, Yard & Co. 

Shakespeare Manual. 

F. G. Fleay. The Macmillan Co. 

An interesting story of Shakespeare's times is Master 
Skylark, John Bennett — Century Co. 

Scott's Kenilworth is a story of London and Warwick- 
shire in 1575, and The Fortunes of Nigel gives a good 
picture of London in 1604, the year of " Othello." 



191 



EXPLANATORY NOTES 

Dramatis Persons = persons of the drama; the cast. 

Notice that the cast is printed according to rank and social 
distinction. First we have the Duke, next the Princes, then 
the more important merchants, and so on down to the servants. 
The women, again in order of social rank, are placed together 
after all of the male characters. How does this arrangement 
differ from the program of a modern play ? 

The only difficult names to pronounce are Gratiano (Gra- 
shiano), Balthasar, and Stephano. With the exception of Shy- 
lock and Tubal, Shakespeare found the names of his characters 
in the Italian stories of his day. 

The Magnificoes were the powerful nobles of Venice. 

Portia's seat is her abode, mansion, or estate. 

on the Continent. That is, in contrast to Venice, which is 
situated on more than a hundred small islands between the 
mouths of the Piave and the Po. 



ACT I 

Scene 1 

In the first edition of "The Merchant of Venice," published in 
the late fall of 1600, the play is not divided into either acts or 
scenes, and even in the Folio of 1623 the acts alone are indi- 
cated. The divisions into scenes have been made by later edi- 
tors. (See page 184, on the presentation of a Shakespearian 
play.) 

Venice. Shakespeare wrote "The Merchant" probably in 
1596 or 1597, and we may suppose that the scene is laid in the 

*93 



Notes. Act I, Scene 1. 

Venice of those years. Although by the poet's time this great 
city had fallen from the height of its former glory and influence, 
she still " held the gorgeous East in fee," and was one of the 
great maritime powers of the earth. Her merchants traded with 
the whole civilized world. Her wealth, her magnificent palaces, 
her painters, poets, sculptors, and lordly dukes were known and 
admired throughout Europe. It is barely possible that Shake- 
speare had visited Italy himself and had seen Venice in all her 
beauty and glory ; but even if he had not, his imagination must 
have been fired by the tales of travellers and by the books of his 
day, which pictured the life of Italy more than of any European 
country. 

A street. Remember that only about a third of the streets of 
Venice are canals, though the paved roads and fine squares are 
often flooded by the high tides of the Adriatic. 

Enter Antonio, etc. It is probably forenoon, an hour or two 
before dinner. Halpin sets the time of the opening at eleven 
o'clock in the morning. (For further discussion of the time dura- 
tion of the play, see page 106 and also the notes at the opening of 
each scene.) 

Line 1. In sooth : in truth, truly. Thus the word " sooth- 
sayer 1 ' originally meant one who said what was true. 

4. whereof : where. Note the frequent use of this word 
throughout the play, and also of "withal," where we should use 
merely "where" and "with." 

6. want-wit. Literally, one who lacks knowledge or sense, — 
a scatterbrains, or possibly an idiot. Other similar compound 
forms that Shakespeare uses are " a lack -love," " a make-peace," 
" this break -promise," " this break -vow." 

7. ado: trouble. 

9. argosies : large merchant vessels. The word is in no way 
connected with the word Argo, as one might suppose, but is 
derived from the city of Ragusa, in sixteenth-century English 
spelled " Aragouse" and " Arragosa." The merchant vessels of 
this Italian city were often seen in English harbors in Shake- 
speare's time, portly: stately and swelling. 

I 94 



Act I, Scene 1. Notes. 

10. signiors . . . burghers : great and powerful lords of the 
ocean. 

11. pageants of the sea. Originally pageants were large plat- 
forms drawn about the streets and used as stages for acting the 
miracle plays. They have been compared to our " floats " in 
parades. 

12. overpeer : look down upon. petty traffickers : small 
trading vessels. 

15. venture : risk, speculation, — as in business language to- 
day, forth : out, abroad. So later Shylock says, " I am bid 
forth to supper." 

17. still : ever, perpetually. 

18. sits the wind : not the direction from which, but the 
quarter towards which, the wind is blowing. 

19. roads: haven, harbor, — as in Hampton Roads and road- 
stead. 

23. a'-gue : a condition of cold, trembling, and fever. 

25. sandy hour-glass : a device for measuring time by running 
fine sand through the narrow neck of a glass vessel. Similar 
instruments may be bought to-day for measuring three or five 
minutes when cooking eggs. Look up " hour-glass " and " clep- 
sydra 1 ' in any large encyclopaedia. You will find "Ancient 
Methods of Telling Time " an interesting subject for a theme 
or a talk. 

27. Andrew : the name of Salarino's imaginary vessel. 

28. vailing : lowering. 

29. burial : burial place or grave. 

31. bethink me straight : think at once, straightway. 

35-36. now . . . now. The costly spices and silks which, 
until the vessel struck, were his, now suddenly vanish from his 
possession. Were you acting the part of Salarino, how would 
you read these lines, and what gestures would you make ? 

38. bechanced: having happened. 

42. bottom, — of the ship, for the ship itself. Compare this 
figure (metonymy) with "a fleet of twenty sail." 

44. upon the fortune. That is, trusted to the fortune. 

i 95 



Notes. Act I, Scene 1. 

50. Janus. The Roman god of gates and entrances. He was 
generally figured as facing both ways, often with one laughing 
face and one of serious features. 

52. peep through their eyes, — which are wrinkled and half 
shut with laughter. 

54. other: others. 

56. Nestor. Inasmuch as Nestor was the oldest and gravest 
of the Greek warriors, a jest that he considered laughable would 
naturally be very amusing. 

61. prevented: anticipated, got ahead of me. 

64. embrace the occasion : take this opportunity. 

67. exceeding strange : a great stranger to us. 

70. dinner-time. In Shakespeare's London of 1597 this would 
have been probably about eleven a.m. 

74. respect upon : regard for. 

75. it: the "world" of the previous line. 

78. A stage, etc. Compare these lines of Antonio with the 
famous speech by Jacques in "As You Like It," beginning "All 
the world's a stage. 11 Why was it natural for Shakespeare to 
compare life to acting on the stage ? 

79. play the fool. It would be a monstrous mistake to under- 
stand "fool" in its modern sense. Gratiano wants to play the 
part of the jester, or professional fun-maker, of the plays in 
Shakespeare^ day, such as Touchstone in " As You Like It," 
or Launcelot in this comedy. If you have read "Ivanhoe, 11 you 
will remember that Wamba was far from a fool or simpleton. 

82. mortifying : causing death. 

84. cut in alabaster. " Why should I be as cold and hard as 
a marble effigy on the tomb of my grandfather ? " 
86. peevish : cross, disagreeable, difficult to please. 

88. visages : faces. 

89. a standing pond : a stagnant, sluggish pool. " Some men's 
faces," says Gratiano, " are masked and hidden by affected looks 
of wisdom and gravity, much as a stagnant pool is covered with 
slime. 11 

90. entertain : maintain an obstinate silence. 

196 



Act I, Scene 1. Notes. 

91-92. opinion of wisdom: reputation for wisdom. 

92. conceit. Not pride, but in its original sense of " thought," 
"mental ability." 

93. As who should say : like one who should say. 

96. are reputed wise. That is, there are people whose repu- 
tation for wisdom depends solely on their saying nothing. 

98. would almost damn those ears. According to Scripture 
(Matt. v. 22), "Whoever shall say. Thou fool, shall be in danger 
of hell-fire." It is of this verse that Gratiano is thinking when 
he says that those who could not refrain from calling their silent 
brothers fools would probably be damned. 

101. melancholy bait: the "wilful stillness," — the obstinate 
silence and sadness. 

102. this fool gudgeon. A stupid fish easily caught, and worth 
nothing when taken. 

104. exhortation : sermon ; lecture of advice. 
108. moe : more, as often in Shakespeare. 
110. for this gear : for this matter. 
114. an infinite deal : a huge amount. 

116. chaff : the husks of grain. You remember the lines in 
" The Village Blacksmith " : 

" They love to see the flaming forge, 
And hear the bellows roar, 
And catch the burning sparks that fly 
Like chaff from the threshing floor." 

120. swore a secret pilgrimage. What do you know about 
pilgrims and vows to make secret pilgrimages ? Any good ency- 
clopaedia will help you out. 

124. something ... a more swelling port : by living somewhat 
beyond my means. Port : style of living. 

126. make moan to be abridged. I do not complain now that 
I am cut down or curtailed. 

129. prodigal : extravagant, wasteful. 

130. gaged : bound, engaged, pledged. 
132. warranty: right, warrant. 

I97 



Notes. Act I, Scene 1. 

136. still: always, as in line 17. 

137. within the eye of honor. That is, " You stand in range 
of what can be viewed, or considered, honorable." What figure 
of speech is this ? 

140. shaft : arrow. Archery was a much more popular sport 
in 1600 than it is to-day. 

141. self -same flight. Bassanio chose for his second arrow 
one that was feathered and tipped to fly the same distance as the 
one he had lost. 

142. advised: careful. 

143. forth: out, as in line 15. 

144. childhood proof : this test of my childhood days. 

145. pure innocence. Of this expression Dr. Furness says, " I 
think it is by no means certain that 'pure innocence' does not 
mean here ' pure foolishness.' Bassanio assuredly was aware how 
flimsy was his pretext for Antonio to send more good money after 
bad, and that his best argument was drawn from childish games." 
The fact that four other interpretations of these words are possi- 
ble illustrates well the differences of opinion among editors of 
Shakespeare. Can you think of any of the other meanings? 

148. self: same. 

151. latter hazard : your second risk, — that is, the money now 
wanted. 

153. herein: in these words of yours. 

154. circumstance : circumlocution, " beating about the bush," 
round-about talk. 

156. making question, etc. " You wrong me," says Antonio, 
" by doubting my willingness to do everything for you within my 
power." 

160. prest unto it : ready to do it. 

165. nothing undervalued: in no way inferior to Cato's 
daughter. 

166. Brutus' Portia. If you have read " Julius Caesar," written 
by Shakespeare a few years after " The Merchant of Venice," you 
will remember the important parts played by Brutus and by his 
wife Portia in that tragedy. 

198 



Act I, Scene l. Notes. 

170. like a golden fleece. In III, 2, Gratiano refers again to 
the story of the Argonauts, when he says to Salerio, " We are 
the Jasons, we have won the fleece. 1 ' Colchos, or Colchis, was a 
country at the eastern end of the Black Sea. There it was that 
Jason found the Golden Fleece and the sorceress Medea. You 
should know the beautiful old story of Jason and the Argo, of 
Medea and old ^son. References to it occur throughout Ensr- 
lish literature, and even in the daily papers. " As cruel and 
envious as Medea." — Boston Herald. 

171. seat : estate, residence. (See Dramatis Personae.) 

175. presages me such thrift. I have a feeling, we should say, 
which promises me success. 

178. commodity: property, merchandise. 

181. racked : stretched, strained. 

183. presently : instantly, at once, — as often in Shakespeare. 

185. my trust or for my sake. " I do not doubt my ability," 
says Antonio, " to obtain the money either on my credit as a 
business man, or as a personal favor." 

184-185. make . . . sake. Notice that the last two lines 
rhyme. See also the last lines of the following three scenes, and 
find other places where the " rhyme tag " occurs. This practice 
of rhyming at the close of a scene was common in Shakespeare's 
time. It served as a climax or final flourish, — a sort of signal 
that one episode of the play was over and another was about to 
begin. We can better understand the purpose of this "rhyme 
tag," or signal, when we remember that in a play of 1600 one 
scene followed directly after another, without a wait, without 
music, without a curtain, and with but little or no changing of 
scenery. (See page 184, for a fuller account of the acting of an 
Elizabethan play.) 



QUESTIONS AND TOPICS FOR DISCUSSION 

1. Describe the scene at the opening of the play as you 
imagine it. 

I99 



Notes. Act I, Scene 1. 

2. " In Charles Keane's fine revival of this play at the Prin- 
cess's Theatre in 1858," Dr. Furness writes, "the curtain draws 
up on a scene laid in St. Mark's Place, with various groups of 
Nobles, Citizens, Merchants, Water-Carriers, Flower-Girls, etc., 
passing and repassing." Would this be effective? Would it be 
Shakespearian? (See page 178.) 

3. What do you think Antonio and his friends have been talk- 
ing about just before they enter? What words show you plainly 
that we do not hear the beginning of their conversation? 

4. Why do you think the poet dwells at such length on Anto- 
nio's sadness? Does it seem to you that it "casts a shadow 
before " of some misfortune to come later in the story ? 

5. What are the three suggestions offered by the merchant's 
friends to account for his melancholy? Do you think one of 
them is the correct explanation? Have you any others to offer? 

6. In what way is Lorenzo's further connection with the plot 
suggested ? 

7. What bearing does Antonio's comparison of the world 
with a stage have upon the fact that Shakespeare was both a 
playwright and an actor? 

8. One of the most famous passages in the poet's works be- 
gins with these lines : 

" All the world's a stage, 
And all the men and women merely players : 
They have their exits and their entrances ; 
And one man in his time plays many parts, 
His acts being seven ages." 

— As Yon Like It, II, 7, 139. 

Compare these lines with Antonio's explanation of his sadness, 
and also consider them in relation to the previous question. 

9. What opinion do you form of Gratiano? What is his 
most striking characteristic? Do you like him? 

10. At what point does the chaffing of the friends cease, and 
the main plot begin to develop? Why not strike into the heart 
of the story in the opening speeches? 

200 



Act I, Scene 2. Notes. 

It. Tell in your own words the story of Bassanio's financial 
troubles. Do you form, on the whole, a high opinion of this 
friend of Antonio ? 

12. How does the poet arouse your interest in Portia? 

13. By what device does Shakespeare leave us in a state of 
suspense at the end of Scene I ? 

14. How much of the plot has this scene unfolded for us? 

15. Are you more interested in Bassanio or Antonio ? Give 
your reasons. 

16. Quote any lines that you specially like. 



ACT I 
Scene 2 

Belmont. Shakespeare did not originate this name. In the 
Italian book, " II Pecorone," from which probably came the story 
of the Jew of Venice, the home of the rich heiress is in Belmonte. 
(See page 98.) 

Enter Portia. We may imagine that this scene takes place 
on the very morning that Bassanio appealed to his friend for 
money to fit out an expedition to go to Belmont. 

1. By my troth: in truth, verily. Compare this speech by 
Portia with Antonio's first words in the play, " In sooth, I know 
not why I am so sad." 

5. surfeit : to indulge in anything (especially food) to excess. . 

7. seated in the mean : placed in comfortable circumstances, 
neither poor nor rich. Note the play on the word mean. 

8-9. superfluity, etc. That is, a very wealthy man grows 
gray early ; those of moderate " means " live to a good old age. 

10. sentences : rules, maxims. 

17. blood. Used figuratively, as often to-day, for the body 
or the passions. " He did the deed in cold blood.'''' 

18. such a hare, etc. Work out for yourself the interesting 
and picturesque comparison of the hot-blooded wildness of youth 

201 



Notes. Act I, Scene 2. 

with the hare. Why, for instance, does Portia call "good coun- 
sel " a " cripple " ? 

20. is not in the fashion : is not of a character to choose a 
husband for me. 

23-24. will . . . will. Here is another pun. Punning to- 
day seems to us the " lowest form of wit." We almost invariably 
associate it with those who are ever trying to be funny, but with 
poor success. The people of Shakespeare's day, on the contrary, 
seem to have taken a keen delight in playing on the similarity 
of words, even in serious conversation. You will therefore find 
many puns in this drama, none, however, more out of place, 
from our twentieth-century point of view, than those in which 
Shylock and Antonio, at most tragic moments, pun on the words 
damn and heart (III, I, 29-30 ; IV, 1, 274-275). 

29. whereof who chooses, etc.. That is, whoever solves the 
riddle of the three caskets wins you. 

34. thee. In Shakespeare's day thou and thee were used in 
conversation chiefly to servants and when expressing contempt 
or scorn. They were also sometimes used when speaking to 
very intimate friends, as here. 

36. level at : guess at, judge of. 

37. Neapolitan : pertaining to, or coming from Naples. The 
Neapolitans were noted horsemen in the sixteenth century. 

39. makes it a great appropriation, etc. The prince is proud 
of the fact that he can shoe his horse. 

42. County: Count, — as often in Shakespeare. 

44. " If you will not have me, choose " : This obscure line 
has been explained in a dozen ways by the editors, none of them 
wholly satisfactory. One says that something is probably omitted 
after " choose," which Portia expresses by a gesture. Dr. Fur- 
ness would omit the comma after " me,' 1 thus giving to Palatine's 
speech the threat, — " If you will not let me choose, — well, take 
the consequences then! " How would you manage it if you were 
to play the part of Portia? 

45. the weeping philosopher : Heraclitus of Ephesus (about 
500 B.C.), so called from his solemn bearing and sad views of life. 

202 



Act I, Scene 2. Notes. 

50. by : concerning, with regard to. 

56. throstle : an English song-thrush. 

60. requite : reward, — or here almost " return his affections." 

64. he hath neither Latin, etc. He speaks neither Latin, 
French, etc. Remember that in 1597 Latin was still a living, 
spoken language in all the countries of Europe. No later than 
1623, the year of the publication of Shakespeare's collected plays, 
Lord Bacon printed his translation into Latin of one of his 
earlier works, apparently believing that Latin would survive 
among learned men longer than common every-day English. 

67. proper: handsome. 

68. dumb-show: a pantomime, — often, as in "Hamlet," in- 
troduced into Elizabethan plays. suited : dressed. 

69. doublet. " The doublet (so called from being originally 
lined or wadded for defence) was a close-fitting coat, with skirts 
reaching a little below the girdle. The round hose were cover- 
ings for the legs, not the feet. The phrase ' doublet and hose 1 
is equivalent to 'coat and breeches.' " (W. J. Rolfe.) 

70. bonnet. It is only in the United States, and here only 
recently, that the word bonnet has come to be applied exclusively 
to the head wear of women. 

76. sealed under for another. That is, for another box on 
the ear. 

84. make shift : manage. 

89. rhenish wine : a white wine made from grapes grown in 
the valley of the Rhine. the contrary casket. That is, the 
casket, or one of the caskets, which did not contain Portia's 
picture. 

92. a sponge. Lady Macbeth in the tragedy " Macbeth " 
calls certain drunken men " spongy officers." Compare this with 
our American slang " soaked," and a " soak." 

97. sort: way, method. imposition: the conditions im- 
posed by Portia's father. 

99. Sibylla. Just as Gratiano in Scene 1 referred to Nestor 
as a sort of typical wise old man. here Portia uses the Sibyl 
(probably the Sibyl of Cumae) as a type of old age in woman. 

203 



Notes. Act I, Scene 2. 

Apollo granted to, the Cumaean Sibyl as many years of life as the 
grains of sand which she could hold in her hand. 

100. Diana. The goddess of the moon and of hunting. She 
never married. She is referred to again by Lorenzo in V, I, 66. 

101. parcel. Portia speaks half playfully, half contemptuously. 
In the language of the American schoolboy what would be the 
equivalent of this word as it is used here ? 

117. forerunner. Notice later in the play how often servants 
are sent ahead to tell of their masters' 1 approach. What' takes 
the place of " forerunners " to-day? In this connection it will be 
interesting to look up the word " harbinger " in a large dictionary. 

122. condition : character, disposition. 

123. complexion of a devil. This refers, of course, to the 
dark, swarthy complexion of the prince who has been announced. 

123-124. shrive me than wive me. That is, hear my confes- 
sion and give me absolution rather than marry me. Here we 
have again a play on words, this time on their sound rather than 
on their meaning. 

125. Sirrah : fellow, sir. Spoken only to servants, or in 
contempt. 

127. door. Notice the rhyme, door and before, at the end of 
the scene. See note on make and sake on page 199. 

QUESTIONS AND TOPICS FOR DISCUSSION 

1. Why do you think Portia is " aweary of this great world "? 
Has she cause for worry ? Compare her mood here with 
Antonio's in the previous scene, — especially with the mer- 
chant's first speech in the play. 

2. How do you imagine Portia and Nerissa occupied while 
discussing the suitors ? 

3. How old do you think Portia is ? Defend your answer. 

4. What is your explanation of her father's arrangement of 
the lottery of the caskets ? 

5. Why do you think Portia does not seem to feel insulted 
by being forbidden to choose the husband she wished ? 

204 



Act I, Scene 3. Notes. 

6. What is her attitude in general toward her father's will ? 

7. What light is thrown upon Portia's character by her 
description of the suitors ? 

8. By what method does Shakespeare give us clear-cut pic- 
tures of " this parcel of wooers " ? 

9. Is there anything of special interest in what Portia says 
of Falconbridge ? 

10. Does Portia know in which casket her picture is locked ? 
Prove your answer by quoting from her description of the 
German. 

11. Why do you think the suitors departed without choosing ? 
Why have them mentioned at all ? What purpose do they serve 
in developing character and plot ? 

12. What is the effect of having Nerissa speak of Bassanio ? 

13. Is there anything significant in Portia's words, " Yes, yes, 
it was Bassanio " ? 

14. How would you have her speak these words ? Also the 
next passage, beginning, " I remember him well " ? 

15. What is it that somehow has made you like Portia very 
much already ? 

16. What are evidently her relations with Nerissa ? 

17. In what way has this scene advanced the plot ? What 
other more important purpose does it have ? 

18. Does this scene have any definite connection with the 
one before ? What is it ? In what way does it point forward 
to future developments ? 

ACT I 
Scene 3 

Enter Bassanio. We may imagine that this meeting between 
Bassanio and Shylock takes place very soon after Antonio and 
Bassanio parted at the end of Scene i. At any rate, it is still 
before dinner. ■ (See line 33.) 

1. ducats (duck'-uts). The Venetian ducat of Shakespeare's 

205 



Notes. Act I, Scene 3. 

time about equalled the American dollar in value. well : this, 
and the following " wells," must be read slowly and thoughtfully. 
Shylock is meditating, of course, whether or not to lend the 
money. 

7. May you stead me ? Are you able to help me ? 

12. a good man : a man of sound credit and good business 
standing. Bassanio evidently takes " good " in another sense. 

16. sufficient : financially sound. 

17. in supposition. The ships are "subjects of conjecture," 
not actually at hand or certainly safe. 

18. Tripolis. Not the African Tripoli's, but Tripoli in Syria, 
a city that formerly did extensive trading with Venice. Indies : 
the American or West Indies. 

19. the Rialto. An English traveller, Thomas Coryat 
( 1 577-1617), thus describes the Rialto in his volume entitled 
Crudities : " The Rialto, which is at the farthest side of the 
bridge as you come from St. Mark's, is a most stately building, 
being the Exchange of Venice, where the Venetian gentlemen 
and the merchants doe meete twice a day, betwixt eleven and 
twelve of the clocke in the morning, and betwixt five and sixe of 
the clocke in the afternoone. 11 (Quoted from the Variorum 
Edition.) 

[It is interesting to know that this early traveller, Thomas 
Coryat, who went from Palestine to India largely on foot, was 
the man who introduced the common table fork into England.] 

21. squandered: scattered. 

29. I will bethink me : I will consider this matter carefully. 

31. to smell pork. Spoken bitterly, for Jews, of course, never 
eat pork. the habitation : the body or flesh, — here of swine. 

32. Nazarite : Jesus of Nazareth. " So the devils besought 
him, saying, If thou cast us out, suffer us to go away into the 
herd of swine. And he said unto them, Go. And when they 
were come out they went into the herd of swine. " (Matt. viii. 
31-32.) [See also Mark v. 13 and Luke viii. 13.] 

38. a fawning publican. The adjective "fawning'' 1 is sug- 
gested to Shylock by the warmth of the affectionate greeting 

206 



Act I, Scene 3. Notes. 

between the two merchants. The publicans, or Roman tax- 
collectors, were bitterly hated by the Jews. Antonio, of course, 
is not a publican, nor does he fawn upon Bassanio ; the terms 
simply express in a general way Shylock's hatred of the merchant. 
39. for he is : for being ; because he is. 

41. gratis : freely, for nothing. 

42. usance : usury, interest. To lend money for interest was 
still considered in Shakespeare's day a base and wicked thing. 
"It is against Nature for money to beget money.' 1 In 1597 
"interest" and "usury" were therefore synonymous terms. One 
of the reasons why Antonio despises Shylock is because he is a 
professional money-lender. The laws then permitted certain 
Jews to ply this trade, — indeed, it was often the only one open 
to them, — though it caused them to be even more bitterly hated 
and persecuted. 

To-day no one feels any scruples against taking a fair interest 
on money that is lent ; whereas we use the word " usury " for 
exorbitantly high and often illegal rates of interest. Unless you 
understand clearly this change of attitude toward money lending 
and "usance" since Shakespeare wrote, you will fail to appre- 
ciate the feelings of an audience of 1597 toward Shylock and his 
relations with Antonio. 

43. upon the hip : a figure from wrestling. A man caught 
upon his opponent's hip was almost sure to be thrown. (See 
IV, 1, 328.) 

48. he calls interest. See note above on usance. Notice 
that Shylock calls this " interest," or " usury," " my well-won 
thrift," — an expression that would provoke a jeer or a hiss from 
an Elizabethan audience. 

50. of: about. 

52. the gross : the sum total. 

54. Tubal. Notice the appropriateness of the names chosen 
by Shakespeare for his characters. Genesis (x. 2) tells us that 
Tubal was one of the sons of Japheth. 

56. Rest you fair : " Heaven grant you fair fortune ! " Shy- 
lock pretends that he has just seen Antonio for the first time- 

207 



Notes. Act I, Scene 3. 

57. in our mouths. Compare this expression with " on the 
tip of one's tongue." 

59. excess : anything above the sum borrowed. 

60. ripe wants : wants that must be supplied at once. To 
what are the " wants " indirectly compared ? 

61-62. Is he yet possessed, etc. Is he informed how much 
you need ? 

66. methought : it seemed to me, I thought 

67. upon advantage : for gain to yourself. 

68. When Jacob grazed his uncle Laban's sheep, etc. The 
story of Jacob serving his uncle Laban is told in Gen. xxix and 
xxx. See especially Gen. xxx, 30-41 . Rebekah, Jacob's " wise 
mother," helped her favorite son to win his father's blessing, 
thus setting Esau aside, and making Jacob the " third pos- 
sessor," or third heir in direct line from Abraham. 

75. Laban and himself were compromised, etc. Laban agreed 
to reward Jacob for his faithful service by giving him all the 
new-born lambs, or " eanlings," that were striped and spotted, — 
" streaked and pied." 

83. inserted. That is, "Was this story of Jacob and Laban 
put into the Bible to justify usury ? " 

84. ewes : female sheep. 

87. The devil can cite Scripture, etc. In Mat. iv. 6, the 
Devil, tempting Jesus, "saith unto him, If thou be the Son 
of God, cast thyself down : for it is written, He shall give 
his angels charge concerning thee," etc. These last words the 
Devil quotes from Psalm xci, thus " citing Scripture for his 
purpose." 

88. producing holy witness : offering proofs from sacred 
authority. 

89. a villain with a smiling cheek. Compare this with 
Hamlet's famous denunciation of his uncle : 

" O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain ! 
My tables, — meet it as I set it down, 
That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain." 

208 



Act I, Scene 3. Notes. 

94. beholding to you : beholden, bound, obliged to you for 
your money. 

96. rated : berated, rebuked. 

97. usances. Here, as earlier in the scene, the word means 
simply "interest," or "rates of interest. 1 ' 

98. still: always, — as we have already seen. 

99. sufferance : patient endurance, submission. In Shake- 
speare's time all Jews were obliged by law to wear yellow caps 
in public places. In his acting copy of the play, Edwin Booth 
wrote against this line, — "Showing his yellow cap," — the 
badge of his race. 

101. gaberdine: a coarse, loose outer garment. 

104. Go to. A common phrase in Shakespeare, about equiv- 
alent to our "well." Here spoken scornfully. (See II, 2, 
149.) 

105. moneys. Shy lock, quoting Antonio's words in con- 
tempt, uses the plural here, and again in line 120, with the sin- 
gular verb is. 

106. void your rheum : spit. Do you feel that there is any- 
thing gained by using the expression "void your rheum " instead 
of the shorter and simpler " spit " ? 

112. in a bondman's key: in a voice, or tone, of a slave. 

113. bated: abated, low, whispered. 

123. A breed for barren metal. That is, interest money made 
or bred from the principal loaned. Antonio here harps again on 
the common belief of ancient times that it was against nature for 
money to beget money by interest. He therefore calls metal 
"' barren." 

125. break: break his day, fail to keep his agreement. 
Though the grammatical construction of the sentence is not 
permissible in modern English, the meaning is clear enough. 

129. doit : a small coin worth a quarter of a cent. 

133. a notary : an officer in England empowered by law to 
register deeds and to make note of bonds and other instruments, 
upon which he places his signature and seal to make them 
legal. 

209 



Notes. Act I, Scene 3. 

134. your single bond : your own bond without any surety, 
merry sport. One of the stanzas in the old ballad of" Gernutus, 11 
which Shakespeare probably had read, begins with the line : 

" But we will have a merry jest" (See p. 101.) 

138. nominated for an equal: named as an equivalent, or 
exact pound of your flesh. 

141. i'faith : in faith, truly, " in sooth," " by my troth. 11 
144. dwell in : remain in. 

149. father Abram, etc. Should these words of Shylock be 
spoken as an aside, or to Antonio and Bassanio ? 

150. teaches. Not an error of grammar, but an old English 
plural in es that survived in certain words until Shakespeare's 
time. 

155. estimable : valuable. We apply the word to-day only 
to persons. 

156. muttons, beefs : sheep and oxen. 

158. so : so be it, well and good. 

159. And, for my love, etc. "And as regards my friendly 
motive in this business, do not misunderstand me. 1 ' (Dr. F. B. 
Gummere.) This is perhaps the simplest of the many explana- 
tions given of Shylock's puzzling words. 

161. forthwith: immediately, without delay. 

163. purse: put into a purse. straight: straightway. 

164. fearful : to be feared, untrustworthy. 

165. knave. This word, which originally meant only a boy 
(Ger. Knabe), now is used only for a rascal, a rogue. Both 
uses were common with Shakespeare. What does Shylock evi- 
dently mean here ? 

169. terms : this may refer either to the kind words of Shy- 
lock, or to the agreements in the bond. Which do you prefer ? 

168-171. Notice the two pairs of rhymes at the end of the 
scene. Compare this with other scene endings throughout the 
play, and see note on the last line of Scene i of this act. 



2IO 



Act I, Scene 3. Notes. 

QUESTIONS AND TOPICS FOR DISCUSSION 

1. Give as many reasons as you can for placing the scene at 
Belmont between the scene which shows us Antonio and Bassanio 
starting out to borrow money, and this interview with Shylock. 

2. What marked contrasts are there between this scene and 
the previous one ? What effect do they have ? 

3. Picture the scene and the bearing of Bassanio and Shy- 
lock as they enter talking. How would you act the part of Shy- 
lock at this point •? 

4. What shows clearly that we first hear the middle of a con- 
versation ? What do you think has already passed between 
Bassanio and the Jew ? 

5. Upon what do you think Shylock is pondering ? How 
would you have him speak his first four speeches ? Defend your 
interpretation. 

6. What is the dramatic purpose of Shylock's "aside"? 
(38-49.) What are the merchants doing meanwhile? How 
would you arrange this on the stage to make it seem natural ? 

7. At what point do you think Shylock's scheme for entrap- 
ping Antonio first shows itself ? 

8. Give Antonio's reasons for never lending money with 
interest. Why do we have so little sympathy with his attitude 
to-day ? 

9. What are Shylock's chief reasons for hating the merchant? 
Do you have any sympathy for him ? 

10. Discuss Antonio's treatment of Shylock. (See page 103.) 

11. Can you defend the merchant? Is your respect for him 
lowered in consequence of his treatment of the Jew ? 

12. What makes you feel certain that Shylock is speaking the 
truth, even without exaggeration ? 

13. What do you think of Shylock's offer, " I would be friends 
with you," etc. ? 

14. What will you say of his phrase " in merry sport " ? 

15. Why do you think Shylock's proposition of the pound of 
flesh affects Antonio so little, when it seems so abominable and 
disgusting to us ? 

211 



Notes. Act I, Scene 3. 

16. Does Bassanio object very strenuously to his friend's sign- 
ing the bond ? Discuss his part in the transaction. 

17. Why do you think the merchants do not see through 
Shylock's trickery and appreciate his real motives ? 

18. Do they seem as much surprised as we should expect at 
Shylock's lending three thousand ducats without interest ? 

19. Is Shylock, in your judgment, just taking a chance of get- 
ting Antonio into his power, or do you think he has already 
heard of the merchant's ventures at sea, and possibly of some 
disasters ? Give reasons for your opinion. 

20. In what general way does Shylock impress you through- 
out the scene? Think of adjectives to describe his character as 
you understand it. 

21. Which one of the three men of this scene do you find 
most interesting ? Why ? 

22. Which of these three parts do you feel demands the great- 
est skill and power in acting ? 

23. Notice the change from prose to verse form at line 38. 
Can you account for this change ? What effect does it have ? 
(See II, 2, 158, and other similar places throughout the drama.) 

24. Quote the three passages you like best and explain your 
choice. 

25. " The dramatic skill of Shakespeare in these three scenes 
is striking enough. First, we have sad Antonio and the romantic 
quest of Bassanio. Secondly, there is Portia, mocking her own 
solicitude in light play of wit over a more than grave situation, 
with the pretty half-confession about Bassanio. Now comes this 
Shylock, striking straight into the two motives — friendship and 
love — with a tragic threat so admirable in its weaving that we 
utterly forget the flimsy material, the absurd character of that 
merry bond. Exposition, the object of a first act, was never 
better achieved than here." (Dr. Francis B. Gummere.) 

Discuss this paragraph. Point out other ways in which " the 
dramatic skill of Shakespeare in these three scenes" is shown. 
Explain more fully the last sentence of the quotation. 



212 



Act II, Scene l. Notes. 

ACT II 

Scene 1 

This scene may follow directly after Scene 2 of the previous 
act, or possibly the next morning. 

Flourish of cornets : a call, or a few notes, on trumpets or 
cornets. 

1. mislike : dislike, which Shakespeare generally uses. 
complexion. Do not picture the Prince of Morocco as black, 
or as a negro, but rather as a gallant and imposing figure with 
dark, swarthy complexion. The stage-direction in the First 
Folio edition says here : " Enter Morochus, a taw?iie Moore, all 
in white," etc 

2. The shadowed livery, etc. The Prince says that his com- 
plexion is the darkened uniform, or tan, of the dazzling sun. 

5. Phoebus, or Phoebus Apollo : the sun-god, the sun. 

6. incision for your love. Red blood was generally considered 
a sign of courage and noble birth. Cowards, on the contrary, 
"have livers white as milk.'" (See III, 2, 86.) 

8. aspect : countenance, face. Try to read the line with the 
accent on the first syllable. What happens to the rhythm and 
meter? 

9. feared : caused to be afraid, terrified. 
10. best-regarded : held in highest regard. 
12. thoughts: affections. 

14. nice direction. That is, by the fastidious, exacting judg- 
ment of a maiden's eyes. 

17. scanted: restricted. 

18. wit. Not "sense of humor," or "jest," but in its original 
sense of "wisdom," "judgment," "sagacity." In such expres- 
sions as " to be at the end of 07ie's wits" and " to lose one's wits" 
we still retain the older meaning. 

20. stood as fair : would have stood, or been, as favorable a 
suitor. Portia probably refers to the Moor's complexion when 
she says " fair." 

213 



Notes. Act II, Scene 1. 

25. Sophy : the Emperor, or Shah, of Persia. 

26. Sultan Solyman. This was undoubtedly the tenth Otto- 
man Sultan, called the "Magnificent," who reigned from 1520 
to 1566. 

31. alas the while ! alas ! 

32. Hercules and Lichas. Hercules, the giant and heroic 
warrior, as a type of strength, is contrasted with Lichas, his ser- 
vant and page. 

33. which is the better man: to decide which is the better 
man. 

35. Alcides : Hercules, so called from the fact that his grand- 
father was Alcaeus. 

42. advised : deliberate, prudent, cautious. 

43. Nor will not. The double negative, common enough in 
Shakespeare, here seems to give emphasis to Morocco's refusal 
to be deliberate. 

44. temple. The church, where oaths to observe the condi- 
tions were to be taken. 



QUESTIONS AND TOPICS FOR DISCUSSION 

1. What is there impressive about the meeting of the Moor's 
train and Portia's attendants ? 

2. Describe the Prince of Morocco as he appears to your 
imagination. 

3 . What seem to be the most striking qualities of his character ? 

4. Do you like him? Why? Why not? 

5. What is there rather doubtful about Portia's compliment in 
lines 20-22? 

6. Why do you think Portia postpones Morocco's choice 
until after dinner? 

7. Are there any dramatic reasons for separating the arrival 
and reception of Morocco from his choice of the caskets? Why 
are these two scenes generally acted together in a modern pres- 
entation of the play ? 

214 



Act II, Scene 2. Notes. 

8. Is there anything about the Prince of Morocco that leads 
you to think he may choose one casket more than the others? 
What is it? 

9. What great tragedy by Shakespeare has a Moor for its 
chief character? 

10. Remember that in 1600, when the Merchant of Venice 
was first printed, Moorish warriors were still threatening southern 
Europe. What do you know about their power in Africa and 
Spain? If you are interested in this subject look up the '"Song 
of Roland," and read in Irving's " Alhambra " these stories : 
"The Journey, 11 " Palace of the Alhambra," "The Hall of the 
Ambassadors, 11 " Alhamar, 11 "The Court of Lions." 



ACT II 
Scene 2 

Although it is barely possible that this scene takes place on 
the afternoon of the first day of the play, it seems more natural 
to suppose that several days have elapsed since Antonio signed 
the bond. Since then Bassanio has hired a ship, and is now 
busy buying presents and hiring a retinue of followers to accom- 
pany him to Belmont. 

We now meet Launcelot, the clown of the play. Do not try 
to find a meaning in everything he says, as some of the German 
critics have done. Remember that he is a country lad, whose 
ignorance, conceit, and love of " talking big " produce naturally 
many strange blunders and meaningless expressions. 

1. Certainly my conscience, etc. : " Surely my conscience will 
yield and let me run away." Spoken doubtfully, coaxingly. 

9. Via! Away! Formerly used in England with horses, like 
our " Go long ! " " Get up ! " 

10. for the heavens ! By heavens! The wit of the expression 
lies in the absurdity of the DeviPs swearing by the heavens, 

15. did something smack: had some taste of the rascal about 
him. grow to. This has been explained by Clarendon as a 

2I 5 



Notes. Act II, Scene 2 

" household phrase applied to milk when burnt to the bottom of 
the saucepan, and thence acquiring an unpleasant taste. 1 ' 

21. God bless the mark. An obscure expression. It pro- 
bably has the force of an apology for saying that the Jew is " a 
kind of devil.' 1 Compare "saving your reverence" just below, 
which virtually means, "If I may say so without offence to any 
one." 

24. iucarnal. Other texts have " incarnation. 11 Launcelot is 
trying to use the word incarnate : embodied in flesh. 

33. sand-blind: partially blind, dim of sight. Launcelot ex- 
aggerates the word to "high-gravel blind." (Compare "pur- 
blind," " stone-blind.") 

34. confusions. Launcelot's blunder for "conclusions." 

38. marry. A corrupted form of " Mary, 11 or "By Mary" 
(the Virgin). 

41. God's sonties : God's saints, or sanctities. 

44. Master Launcelot. " Master " was a title given only to 
gentlemen. Launcelot's fun consists in trying to make his old 
half-blind father give him this title. He succeeds in line 55. 
How will you, then, read lines 44 and 46? 

45. raise the waters. Like our "raise a racket," "raise a 
row," "raise a wind." 

49. well to live : well-off, in good condition. 

50. a' will : he will. 

53. ergo : therefore. Of course Launcelot refers to his father's 
last words. He reasons apparently thus : " Therefore, old man, 
since you address me with the words ' your worship,' and since I 
am Launcelot's friend, shouldn't you speak of him as Master 
Launcelot? " 

55. an't: if it. 

56. Ergo, etc. Therefore I am Master Launcelot. When 
Old Gobbo said " an't please your mastership" his son had at 
last won his point, for his father had addressed him by the title 
of "master." 

57. father. " A' common and familiar title for old men." 
Does Launcelot use the word in the same way in line 64? 

2l6 



Act II, Scene 2. Notes. 

58. Sisters Three. The three Fates (Clotho, Lachesis, and 
Atropos) who were supposed to control human destinies. 

63. hovel-post : a post supporting an out-building or shed. 

65. Alack the day: alas. (Compare "lackaday," "lacka- 
daisy.") 

87. Lord worshipped might he be ! The Lord be praised ! 
Good Heavens ! What a beard, etc. While speaking, Launce- 
lot knelt with his back to his father to receive his blessing. 
What amusing blunder does the old man now make? 

89. fill-horse : shaft-horse, thill-horse. 

91. of: on. Shakespeare's prepositions often differ from those 
of modern English. Make note of others as you read the play. 
See, for instance, line Ji above. 

96-97. I have set up my rest : I have made up my mind. In 
games of chance, especially in a game called "primers," the rest 
was the highest stake one could venture. Notice Launcelot's 
pun on the word in the line following. 

101. give me your present. "Me" here is the so-called 
"ethical dative" commonly found in the English of Shake- 
speare's time. Often such a dative adds nothing to the sense 
of the expression. In this passage it may give the force of " for 
me," or " to please me," to Launcelot's request. In " King 
John" Hubert says to an executioner, "Heat me these irons 
hot," where me has the same force. 

106. hasted : hastened. 

109. anon : at once. 

112. Gramercy ! Great thanks ! A corruption of the French 
words "grand merci." wouldst thou aught with me? Do 

you want me for anything ? Can I do anything for you ? 

117. to serve, — . The dash, of course, indicates a sudden 
interruption. Dr. Furness says of these lines : " Is it stage tra- 
dition here which makes Launcelot not only interrupt his father, 
but turn him swiftly round, and after the delivery of his speech 
to Bassanio turn him as swiftly back again, and keep up these 
gyrations until the amazed Bassanio says, ' One speak for both ' ? " 
121. cater-cousins. Though the meaning of cater is obscure, 

217 



Notes. Act II, Scene 2. 

it is evident Gobbo means that Shylock and Launcelot do not 
get along well together. 

124. frutify. Of course there is no such word. Launcelot 
evidently means. " notify, 11 and, as Dr. Furness has pointed out, 
is possibly ''harking back to his 'specify 1 of line 119, which is 
taken as 'spicify, 1 — spice and fruit. 11 

127. impertinent. Another Gobboism. So also " defect " in 
line 133. 

136. preferred : promoted. 

139. The old proverb, etc. The proverb referred to is, " The 
grace of God is better than riches. 11 parted : divided. 

145. guarded: ornamented, trimmed. In "Henry VIII 11 a 
fool is thus described : 

" A fellow 

In long motley coat guarded with yellow. 11 

148. table : palm of the hand. 

149. Go to. See note on I, 3, 104. 

149-150. a simple line of life. Launcelot is pretending to 
read his own fortune by examining the lines of his hand. In 
palmistry the line of life is the line which circles the ball or base 
of the thumb. " Simple, 11 of course, is spoken in sarcasm. 

152. coming-in: lot, fortune. 

155. a good wench for this gear : a good woman for this busi- 
ness. (Compare "gear 11 in I, 1, no.) 

158. think on this. During Launcelofs chatter, Bassanio has 
been evidently talking to his followers at the rear of the stage. 

159. bestowed : arranged, disposed of. 

161. best-esteemed acquaintance : best-loved friends. 

166. a suit to you : a favor to ask of you. 

169. hear thee. In this expression, as in fare thee well, the 
" thee " seems to be used for " thou, 11 and not reflexively. 

171. Parts : qualities, characteristics. 

174. liberal. This word is well explained by the adjectives 
of line 171 above. 

177. misc6nstrued. Spelled misconstered in the First Folio 
edition, as the word was then pronounced. 

218 



Act II, Scene 2. Notes. 

179. a sober habit : a quiet demeanor or bearing. 

182. hood mine eyes. In Shakespeare's time men wore their 
hats at meals, — a custom which probably came down from the 
days of chivalry. Of what significance is the word "thus" in 
the next line? 

185. studied in a sad ostent, etc. That is, trained to put on 
a solemn appearance and behavior such as would please his 
grandmother. 

188. gauge : estimate, judge. 

192. purpose : intend, plan. 

194. I must to Lorenzo. The verb "go" is omitted, an ellip- 
sis which is common in Shakespeare. (Compare Launcelot^ 
"To him, father, 11 in line no.) 

QUESTIONS AND TOPICS FOR DISCUSSION 

1. How would you act the part of Launcelot while he is car- 
rying on the debate between his conscience and the fiend? 

2. What is the effect of this direct conversation? Do you 
like it ? 

3. Is Launcelot a jester, or clown, by profession, like Touch- 
stone in "As You Like It" and Wamba in " Ivanhoe 11 ? 

4. Explain clearly just how Launcelot is amusing to you. Is 
his wit intentional or unintentional? Natural or forced? 

5. What does Lorenzo mean later by calling him a "wit- 
snapper " ? 

6. Why does Launcelofs " trying confusions " with his old 
blind father not seem unkind or disrespectful ? 

7. What characteristic of Launcelot appears in his ludicrous 
attempt to make his father address him as " Master " ? Point out 
other places in this scene that show the same quality of character. 

8. How would you arrange the acting of lines 85-89? Of 
96-98? 

9. What is the stage "business 11 in lines 1 10-132? What 
makes this part of the scene very amusing when it is well acted? 
(See page 217, note on line 117.) 

219 



Notes. Act II, Scene 2. 

10. Why do you think Shakespeare has Gratiano accompany 
Bassanio? How does he make it seem natural that he should go 
to Belmont, too? 

11. In what way are Gratiano's words here in perfect keeping 
with the character of the man we met in the first scene of the 
play? 

12. Can you suggest any reasons for Bassanio's really wanting 
his talkative friend to go to Belmont with him? 

13. What important hints are dropped in the last few lines 
of the scene? 

14. Where before have you noticed Shakespeare's skill in 
" pointing forward to coming events " by suggestions just at the 
close of a scene? 

' 15. With what do these suggestive scene-endings compare in 
fiction ? 

16. How has the plot been advanced by this scene? 

17. What parts of it have not contributed anything to speak 
of to the main action? Have they, in your judgment, an impor- 
tant purpose? Would you omit them if you put the play on the 
stage now? 

18. What are Launcelot's chief characteristics? Why are 
you glad he has been added to the persons of the drama? 

19. Make a list of Launcelot's blunders. 

20. What is a " Gobboism " ? A " Malapropism " ? Look 
up Mrs. Malaprop, and compare these words with "Johnsonese." 
Can you think of other words made from the names of writers or 
characters in books? 

21. Notice the point at which the characters begin to talk in 
verse form. Why not have this form from the beginning of the 
scene? Compare this with a similar change in I, 3. 



220 



Act II, Scene 3. Notes. 

ACT II 

Scene 3 

Scene III. The same. That is, still in Venice. Notice the 
scene-headings that follow. 

10. exhibit. Again Launcelot blunders. He probably is try- 
ing to use " prohibit " or " inhibit " = check, restrain. Some 
think that he uses " exhibit " correctly and means, " Tears must 
show what my tongue would say if I could only speak." It is, 
however, as we have seen, very easy for Launcelot to use the 
wrong word, and there is a bit of amusement for the audience in 
the thought of " tears exhibiting the tongue." 

11. pagan : one who is not a Christian ; a heathen. Launce- 
lot's character as wit and clown allows him a degree of familiarity 
and outspokenness not permitted to servants in general. 

12. something : somewhat. 

14. heinous (hay'nus) : wicked, atrocious. 

17. manners. Not merely the outward forms of behavior. 
The word here is almost synonymous with " character." 

18. this strife. Jessica is having an " inward conflict " be- 
tween her duty to her father and her love for Lorenzo. 

QUESTIONS AND TOPICS FOR DISCUSSION 

1. What piece of the plot is here presented ? 

2. Why is this scene almost always omitted in modern pres- 
entations of " The Merchant " ? 

3. In what ways do you imagine Shy lock makes an unhappy 
home for his daughter ? 

4. Why does Jessica speak in verse, Launcelot in prose ? 
(See II, 2, 1-105.) 

5. When do you think this scene takes place in relation to 
the one that has just passed ? 

6. As we shall have to consider the character of Jessica more 
fully later, note here what moral qualities her few words suggest. 

221 



Notes. Act II, Scene 4. 

ACT II 

Scene 4 

1. in supper-time : during supper. 

5. spoke us yet, etc. We have not yet bespoken, or engaged, 
torchbearers for ourselves. 

6. vile: poor, not best, unseemly. In line 29 of the next 
scene we have " vile " in its stronger and more common mean- 
ing, quaintly : skilfully, artfully. 

7. undertook: Shakespeare also uses the form " undertaken," 
just as he has both " spoke " and " spoken," " mistook " and 
"mistaken," "wrote" and "writ." (See lines 13-14 below.) 
He wrote at a time when the language was passing through many 
changes and abounded in varying forms. 

10. an: if (as in II, 2, 55). break up this. This is not a 
" Gobboism," but a usual way of saying, " break open." 

13-14. writ. See note on " undertook " above. 

15. By your leave, sir. Launcelot begs Lorenzo's pardon for 
going. 

22. masque. "A form of amusement which consisted in a 
number of persons, wearing visors and suitably disguised, going 
in procession to a house where festivities were on foot, and there 
acting a short play, or leading an elaborate dance." (H. C. 
Withers.) 

23. provided of: provided with. 

24. straight: at once, straightway (as in I, 3, 163). 

32. page's suit. The page, or boy attendant of a gentleman, 
always wore an elaborate livery. 

You remember Bassanio, in Scene 2, told one of his servants 
to give Launcelot "a livery more guarded (trimmed) than his 
fellows." 

36. Unless she do it, etc, The "she" refers to misfortune 
which is personified, like Fortune in Scene 2. Lorenzo says 
that misfortune will never come to Jessica, except with the 
excuse that her father is a Jew. 

222 



Act II, Scene 5. Notes. 

37. faithless: without faith, unbelieving, infidel. ["Then 
Jesus answered and said., O faithless and perverse generation ! " 
(Matt. xvii. 17.)] 

QUESTIONS AND TOPICS FOR DISCUSSION 

1. What is the purpose of this scene ? Is it an important 
one ? 

2. Tell the story of Lorenzo's plan to carry off Jessica. 

3. What was a masque ? Why was it a suitable means of 
effecting the elopement ? 

4. What opinion are you forming of Jessica ? 

5. What difficulty would these numerous short scenes present 
to the stage -manager to-day ? 

6. How were these arranged in the theatre of Shakespeare's 
time ? (See page 184.) 

ACT II 

Scene 5 

This scene, with the others here concerning the elopement of 
Jessica, takes place in the afternoon and evening before Bassanio 
sets sail for Belmont, which was apparently about nine o'clock at 
night. 

2. of : between. — Why not make a list of the different mean- 
ings of this preposition throughout the play ? 

3. What. A common exclamation of impatience when calling 
to persons. In "Julius Caesar 1 ' Brutus calls to his servant, 
"What, Lucius, ho!" when trying to wake him. gormandize. 
The word is well explained in line 46, where Shylock calls 
Launcelot " a huge feeder." 

5. rend apparel out : wear out clothes. 

8. Your worship was wont to tell me, etc. " You have always 
told me that I was unable to do anything without orders, so I 
thought I would show you I could for once." 

223 



Notes. Act II, Scene 5. 

11. bid forth: invited out. For a similar use of "forth," re- 
member Bassanio's "find the other forth" in I, 1, 143, and see 
line 36 below. 

15. prodigal. See note on I, 1, 129. 

16. right loath : reluctant, extremely averse. 

17. some ill a-brewing, etc. Some trouble is being contrived 
that disturbs my peace of mind. Thus we say, "A plot is 
brewing" 

18. to-night: last night. Usually Shakespeare uses "to- 
night" in its modern meaning. 

It was a popular superstition that to dream of money was a 
sign of bad fortune. 

20. reproach. Launcelot's blunder for "approach." Shy- 
lock's reply in the next line is a grimly humorous play upon the 
words. 

24. my nose fell a-bleeding on Black Monday. Black Monday 
was the Monday after Easter, so called from Easter-Monday of 
1360, "which day was full of dark mist and hail, and so bitter 
cold that many men died on their horses' backs with the cold." 
A nose-bleed is still considered, among superstitious people, an 
omen that something unusual is going to happen. 

29. vile. See note on " vile " in II, 4, 6. wry-necked : 
with neck twisted or contorted. Though this word may apply 
to the crooked neck of an ancient fife, it seems more probable 
that Shylock is here describing the player, or fifer, who twisted 
his neck to one side as he blew on his instrument. 

32. varnished faces. The faces of "the Christian fools" 
would be either actually painted or disguised by masks. 

34. shallow foppery ■ silly foolishness. 

35. By Jacob's staff. In Genesis xxxii, 10, Jacob says, "With 
my staff I passed over this Jordan," and the staff of Jacob is 
mentioned again in the New Testament. Is the oath an appro- 
priate one to put in Shylock's mouth ? Why ? 

36. of feasting forth: for feasting out (See note on I, 1, 15 
and on I, 1, 143. Also line 11 above.) 

37. sirrah. Compare I, 2, 125, and see note. 

224 



Act II, Scene 5. Notes. 

42. worth a Jewess' eye: worth the notice of a Jewess. 
Launcelot is punning on an old saying, "worth a Jew's eye," 
which became proverbial from the fact that Jews were often 
threatened with the loss of an eye to extort money from them. 

43. Hagar's offspring. In Genesis xvi occurs the story of 
Hagar, the bondwoman of Sarah, who left her mistress with the 
grievance that she had been treated harshly. Shylock's allusion 
is thus very appropriate, for Launcelot is leaving him under simi- 
lar circumstances. 

45. patch: a fool or clown, probably from the motley 
(patched) garb of the professional jester. The word came to 
be an expression of contempt. We have it still in "cross-patch. 1 ' 

46. in profit. That is, in those services and duties which 
would be profitable to Shy lock. 

55-56. crost — lost. Here we have again the rhyming 
couplet at the close of a scene, as in I, i, I, 2, and frequently 
throughout Shakespeare's plays. Here " the rhyme not only 
marks the two exits, but also the proverbial or epigrammatic 
sayings with which father and daughter take leave for the last 
time." — H. L. Withers. 

QUESTIONS AND TOPICS FOR DISCUSSION 

1. Describe the setting and stage "business " of the opening 
lines as you imagine them. 

2. What characteristics of Launcelot are brought out by Shy- 
lock here? Do they agree with the impressions you have formed 
of him in earlier scenes? 

3. What seems important to you in the lines, — 

" There is some ill a-brewing towards my rest, 
For I did dream of money-bags to-night " ? 

4. Can you compare Shylock's uneasiness with Antonio's 
sadness at the opening of the play? Really, do "coming events 
cast their shadow before " ? 

5. What seems to imply that Shylock feels confident of get- 
ting Antonio into his power by means of the bond? 

27$ 



Notes. Act II, Scene 6. 

6. What does this confidence suggest as to Shylock's knowl- 
edge of Antonio's ships ? 

7. With what remark that he made in the first act is Shylock 
now acting inconsistently when he goes to dine with the Chris- 
tian, merchants ? 

8. Why do you think he goes to Bassanio's house in spite of 
his fears and forebodings ? 

9. Can you find any defence for Jessica's direct lie to her 
father? (Line 44.) 

10. Why did the Elizabethan audience probably laugh at this 
lie? Does the situation seem amusing to us to-day? 

11. Do you have any sympathy for Jessica? Explain and 
defend your answer. 

12. What are your feelings for Shylock in this scene ? Do 
you think the poet wished us to have any pity for him ? 

13. How are we in the audience taken into the confidence, as 
it were, of the plotters against Shylock? Does this increase or 
lessen our interest in the scene? 

14. Notice again the variations of verse and prose forms. 
How do they agree with variations in previous scenes? 

ACT II 

Scene 6 

1. pent-house. A shed, or any small building, with a single 
sloping roof. 

2. to make stand : to wait for him. 

5. Venus' pigeons. In Greek and Roman mythology the 
chariot of Venus, the goddess of love, was drawn through the 
air by doves. 

7. obliged: plighted, "bound by contract." 

9. sits down. We must supply the "with." Prepositions 
which have already been expressed before the relative are often 
omitted by Shakespeare. Thus in line 12 below "face them" 
(with). 

226 



Act II, Scene 6. Notes. 

10. untread again : retrace, go over again. 

14. younker : youngster, gallant young fellow. 

15. scarf6d : adorned with flags and streamers. 

17. How like the prodigal, etc. Here the reference to the 
story of the Prodigal Son is more definite than in line 14. 

18. over-weathered : weather-beaten, changed in color. 
21. abode: stay, absence. 

Enter Jessica, above, — that is, on the balcony at the rear of 
the stage. (Seep. 181.) 

27. Albeit: although. 

30. who love I, etc. " Who," as an accusative form for 
"whom" in interrogative sentences, is as common in Shake- 
speare's plays as it is to-day. 

33. casket: as elsewhere in the play, a small chest or box 
for jewelry. The use of this word for a " coffin" is local to the 
United States. 

35. my exchange : my change of apparel. 

42. too light. Jessica plays on two meanings of light, — 
"brilliant," "bright," and "undignified," "frivolous." 

43. an office of discovery. The duty of a torch-bearer was to 
make the way clear. Jessica thinks she ought to be kept out of 
sight, — "obscured," not "discovered." 

45. garnish : decoration, array. 

47. close. " The secret, concealing night is going fast." 

51. by my hood. Gratiano, who, you have noticed, is fond of 
oaths, here swears by the hood of the cloak which he wears as 
part of his masking clothes. Others have explained the hood 
as meaning " myself," that is, " my estate," — the word we have 
in "manhood," "childhood," "knighthood," etc. Which do 
you prefer? Gentile. Probably a play upon "gentle" and 
" Gentile " is intended. 

52. Beshrew me. A mild oath, often used playfully and with 
none of the original meaning of "curse." Thus in III, 2, 14, 
Portia says to Bassanio, " Beshrew your eyes." 

64. is come about : has turned. 

65. presently: immediately, at once. 

227 



Notes. Act II, Scene 6. 



67. glad on't ? There are old people in New England who 
still use this contraction of " on it," where we should expect " of 
it,' 1 as " plenty on't, 1 ' " Have you any on't ? " " There's more on't," 
etc. It is a curious fact that many words and expressions of 
Shakespeare's time are in common usage in various parts of 
America, though they have ceased to exist in the twentieth-cen- 
tury Englishman's vocabulary. Have you an explanation to 
offer ? Remember that Shakespeare died in 1616. Jamestown 
was settled in 1607 and Plymouth in 1620. 



QUESTIONS AND TOPICS FOR DISCUSSION 

1. Can you think of any reasons why Shakespeare delayed the 
arrival of Lorenzo ? 

2. In what way does Gratiano's speech, beginning " That ever 
holds " (line 8), seem in perfect keeping with his character? 

3. With what passage at the beginning of the play may these 
lines be well compared? 

4. Do you consider Jessica a thief? What will you say of her 
taking her father's jewels and ducats? 

5. Comment on the relations that seem to have existed be- 
tween father and daughter as shown by the ease of Jessica's 
access to Shylock's treasure. 

. 6. What is there in this scene that would have pleased 
Shakespeare's audiences ? 

7. What is Antonio's errand? How does he say "Fie, fie, 
Gratiano!"? Is he reproving Gratiano for anything more than 
delaying Bassanio's departure? 

8. What is the purpose of the last eight lines? Why do you 
think a modern production of the play closes the scene with the 
departure of Lorenzo, Jessica, and their friends? 

9. Sir Henry Irving, when playing the part of Shylock, inserted 
an addition at the close of this scene that Shakespeare never 
intended. After the excited and happy lovers had fled, for a 
minute the stage was empty and hushed. Then we saw the old 

228 



Act II, Scene 7. Notes. 

father returning alone to his house. Again and again he knocked, 
but only echoes answered him. Every look and every movement 
showed his surprise and anxiety growing into fear and terror; 
and then as the curtain fell he sank in an agony of despair by 
the door of his empty home. 

Why do you think Irving inserted this return of Shylock? 
Do you think that it might make an effective ending? Did he 
improve upon Shakespeare's story of the elopement? What 
influence upon our feelings for Jessica and her father would this 
addition by Irving have ? Why ? 

ACT II 
Scene 7 

Although it is impossible and unnecessary to fix exactly the 
time of each scene, the events from II. 2 to II, 7 seem to fall on 
the same day. Thus the Prince of Morocco makes his choice of 
the caskets on the very evening that Bassanio sailed for Belmont. 

Flourish of cornets. Notice that a few notes, or a flourish, on 
cornets announced the coming of the various suitors, thus giving 
these particular scenes an air of ceremony and pomp. 

1. discover: disclose, reveal. 

4. who. "Who" for "which" and "which" for "who" 
were common enough in Shakespeare's English. Compare " Our 
Father, which art in Heaven," and notice that two lines below 
" which " is used to refer to the silver casket. 

9. hazard : venture, risk. 

12. withal : at the same time, with it. 

20. golden: excellent, good, pure, — as in "Macbeth": "I 
have bought golden opinions from all sorts of people." dross: 
anything worthless or impure. 

25. even: calm, steady, — as in the expression "an even dis- 
position." What picture does this line make in your mind? 

30. disabling: belittling, disparaging. "I would be foolishly 
disparaging myself," says Morocco, "to doubt my own merits." 

229 



Notes. Act II, Scene 7. 

33. In graces, etc. That is, my education, training, and 
character. 

40. mortal-breathing : living, — in contrast to figures of saints 
on shrines that are cut out of stone. 

41. Hyrcanian deserts. These were tracts of desert south of 
the Caspian Sea in Asia Minor. vasty : desolate, barren, 
waste. 

42. throughfares. " Through " and " thorough " are the same 
word. Do you see why the poet used the shorter form here? 
Try reading both in the line. 

44-45. The watery kingdom, etc. The comparison of spray 
from ocean waves and a person spitting into the air is, to say the 
least, strained and unpleasant. Shakespeare is not often guilty 
of such conceits, and even here it is possibly done on purpose to 
suit the character and " big talk " of Morocco. 

49. like : likely, probable. 

50-51. It were too gross, etc. Lead would be too coarse to 
enclose her shroud. [" Cerecloth " is an interesting word to 
study in a large dictionary.] 

52. immured: buried, confined. 

53. ten times undervalued, etc. Silver, as Morocco says, was 
in Shakespeare's time rated at about T l ff the value of pure 
(" tried ") gold. To-day it is only about T V as valuable. 

56. A coin, etc. The gold angel of Shakespeare's day, which 
was worth about ten shillings ($2.50), had on one side a figure 
of Michael slaying the dragon. 

57. insculped upon: engraved on the surface, — in contrast to 
Portia's picture which lies within. 

60. thrive I as I may : may good fortune be mine ! 

63. A carrion Death : a skull. 

77. part: depart. "The curfew tolls the knell of parting 
day." 

78. A gentle riddance. Compare our familiar saying, " Good 
riddance to bad rubbish." 

79. complexion : hue, color. 

Notice again the rhyme tag, go . . . so, at the end of a scene. 

230 



Act II, Scene 7. Notes. 



QUESTIONS AND TOPICS FOR DISCUSSION 

1. Consider again Shakespeare's reasons for separating this 
scene from the one in which the Prince of Morocco first appears 
at Belmont. 

2. Is Morocco's boasting and general style of talking in keep- 
ing with the man as we saw him in the first scene of this act? 
Point out similarities in these two scenes. 

3. One writer says of the Prince : " The Moor's good opinion 
of himself is so honestly and so heartily expressed that it is little 
more than healthy military ' swagger' put into words." Do you 
agree? Give your reasons for liking or disliking this suitor? 

4. What feelings for the Moor do you think Portia has? 
Does she show them in any way? 

5. If you were acting the part of Portia, what would you do 
during the Prince's soliloquy, lines 13-58? How would you act 
when he asks for the golden key ? 

6. Put into your own words Morocco's reasoning that leads 
him to choose the gold casket. Do you find anything to sympa- 
thize with in his argument ? 

7. Does the manner in which the Prince takes his loss cause 
him to rise or fall in your estimation ? 

8. Sum up and explain the meaning of the scroll. What 
lines of it, if any, have you heard before ? 

9. Point out several ways in which this scroll differs from 
anything you have so far found in the play. Can you give any 
reasons for these differences ? 

10. Do you have any suspicion yet as to which casket con- 
tains Portia's picture? Defend your opinion. 



231 



Notes. Act II, Scene 8. 

ACT II 
Scene 8 

This scene apparently takes place the morning after the 
evening on which Bassanio sailed for Belmont, Jessica eloped 
with Lorenzo, and Morocco chose the golden casket. 

9. amorous : loving, affectionate. 

10. certified : assured. 

14. the dog Jew. Remember Shylock's words in Act I : 
" You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog.'"' 

16. Fled with a Christian ! From the earliest times Jewish 
laws have forbidden and condemned " mixed marriages." 
Shakespeare's audience found the wild passion of Shylock for 
his lost money, and the pitiful grief for his lost daughter, equally 
amusing. 

25. keep his day. That is, pay the money he owes Shylock 
on the day it is due. 

27. reasoned : talked, conversed. 

28. the narrow seas : the English Channel, — as often in older 
writers. 

29. miscarried : was lost, went astray. 

30. fraught : freighted, loaded. We use the word to-day 
figuratively in such expressions as, " fraught with mischief, 1 "' 
"fraught with grief. 1 ' 

39. slubber : to do a thing carelessly or poorly ; to slur over. 

40. stay the very riping of the time: remain until the "time 
is ripe." 

42. your mind of love. That is, your loving mind ; your 
mind full of thoughts of love. 

44. ostents : displays. 

45. conveniently: suitably. 

48. wondrous sensible : wonderfully sensitive. 

52. quicken his embraced heaviness. That is, — enliven, or 
cheer, the "grief which he hugs." In the next act Bassanio 
speaks of " rash-embraced despair. " 

232 



Act tl, Scene 8. Notes. 

QUESTIONS AND TOPICS FOR DISCUSSION 

1. What is meant by calling this an "informational scene 11 ? 
Is it especially dramatic? 

2. What purpose does it fulfil? Why do you think it is gen- 
erally omitted when the play is given to-day? 

3. Do you think Antonio had any knowledge of the elope- 
ment ? 

4. Why do you think that Shakespeare had Salanio report 
the words and actions of Shylock and the boys of Venice, rather 
than put them on the stage before us ? 

5. In what way is Jessica now practically dead to her father? 

6. What is the effect of Shylock's grieving and raging, in one 
and the same breath, over his lost daughter and his stolen ducats ? 

7. Do you feel that Salanio is giving a faithful or an exag- 
gerated account of Shylock's actions and words? Defend your 
opinion. 

8. What effect upon the metre of lines 15-22 does Shylock's 
passion seem to have? (Read the lines aloud and compare them 
with those that precede and follow.) 

9. Why does the dramatist just at this point have Salanio 
mention Antonio's possible losses ? 

10. What effect may Jessica's flight with Lorenzo have upon 
Antonio? Explain fully. 

11. How do you account for Antonio's apparent grief at Bas- 
sanio's departure? 

12. What is the dramatic effect of the merchants sorrow and 
loneliness coming here just after Salanio's account of Shylock's 
passionate rage? 

13. In what other ways is this scene a series of contrasts? 

14. How is it that Antonio's kindness seems to make Shy- 
lock^ passion more cruel, whereas the Jew's confused rage seems 
to make the merchant's goodness more gentle and kind? 

The man who probably more than any other had a direct influ- 
ence upon Shakespeare's earlier works was Christopher Marlowe. 

233 



Notes. Act II, Scene 8. 

Now when " The Merchant " was being written, Marlowe's tragedy, 
"The Jew of Malta," first acted in 1589, was still popular. In 
the second act of this play, Barabas, a rich Jew and miser, comes 
secretly at night to his house, which has been taken from him by 
his Christian enemies and turned into a nunnery. To get pos- 
session of the gold hidden in his home he has had his only 
daughter, Abigail, enter the institution as a nun. On reaching 
his door he waits under the balcony and calls : 
Bar a. Who's there? 
Abig. Who's that? 

Bara. Peace, Abigail! 'tis I. 

Abig. Then, father, here receive thy happiness. 
Bara. Hast thou 't? 
Abig. Here. [Throws down bags. ~\ Hast thou 't? 

There's more, and more, and more. 
Bara. O my girl, 

My gold, my fortune, my felicity, 
Strength to my soul, death to mine enemy ; 
Welcome the first beginner of my bliss ! 
O Abigail, Abigail, that I had thee here too ! 
Then my desires were fully satisfied : 
But I will practice thy enlargement thence : 
O girl ! O gold ! O beauty ! O my bliss ! 

[Hugs the bags.~\ 

15. Compare in detail the words of Barabas with those of 
Shylock as reported by Salanio. 

16. Could the similarity of these passages, in your opinion, 
be one of mere chance? How will you account for it? 

17. Point out the different circumstances surrounding the 
speeches of the two Jews. 

18. What scene in " The Merchant " is recalled to your mind 
by Abigail's throwing bags of gold from a balcony to her father? 
Compare and contrast the two scenes. 

19. Do you think Marlowe's lines here are stronger and finer 
than Shakespeare's or vice versa ? Why ? 

234 



Act II, Scene 9. Notes. 

20. Why do you suppose "The Jew of Malta" has been for- 
gotten and is never acted, whereas " The Merchant of Venice " 
has lived, not only in the classroom, but on the stage? 

(You will find a further study of Marlowe's influence upon 
Shakespeare a most interesting subject for a paper or a talk. 
See "Shakespeare's Predecessors," J. A. Symonds ; "Shake- 
speare and His Predecessors," F. S. Boas; "Marlowe's Influ- 
ence on Shakespeare," Verity ; and page 102 of this volume.) 

ACT II 

Scene 9 

1. straight: straightway, at once. 

3. his election presently. He comes to make his choice im- 
mediately. 

Flourish of cornets. See note on II, 7, opening lines. 

6. nuptial rites : marriage ceremony. 

19. And so have I addressed me. By taking the necessary 
oaths Arragon has prepared himself for the choice. Fortune 

now, etc. May good fortune, or success, now come to the hopes 
of my heart ! 

25-26. meant By the fool multitude : meant to apply to the 
multitude, or masses. 

27. fond : foolish, as in III, 3, 9, q. v. The usual meaning of 
the word in Shakespeare. 

28. martlet: the European house-martin, a bird closely re- 
sembling the American martins and swallows. In "Macbeth" 
Shakespeare speaks of the " temple-haunting martlet " that makes 
its " pendent bed " in every nook of the castle walls. 

29. in the weather : exposed to storms. 

30. in the force and road of casualty. In the power and way 
of every accident or misfortune. 

32. jump with : agree with, fall in with. So in the proverb, 
"Great minds jump together," and often in Shakespeare. 

33. barbarous : uneducated, uncultivated. 

*3S 



Notes. Act II, Scene 9. 

34. Why, then to thee. What words will you supply here? 
38. cozen : cheat, deceive. 

41. estates: dignities, titles of rank. degrees: differing 
grades of honor. 

42. clear: pure, unstained. 

44. should cover, etc. How many then would keep their hats 
on, as masters, who now, as servants or as inferiors, remove 
them. 

46-48. " How much meanness would be found among the 
great, and how much greatness among the mean." (Johnson.) 
gleaned : gathered. ruin : refuse. 

49. varnished. Although this word is used perhaps in refer- 
ence to the "ruin of the times," rather than to the "chaff," the 
passage is often quoted as an illustration of Shakespeare's fre- 
quent confusion and mixture of metaphors. 

51. I will assume desert. I claim to be, or take it upon my- 
self to be, one who deserves. 

55- schedule : a written document. 

61-62. Portia probably has in mind here an old saying, that 
an " offender cannot be the judge of his own case." The sig- 
nificance of her reply, however, is somewhat obscure. 

63. tried. To try, of metal, is to reduce to a pure state by 
melting. 

68. I wis : I think, I suppose. 

70. I. That is, the "blinking idiot" who is speaking to 
Arragon in the " schedule." 

71. you are sped: your destiny is settled ; your case is decided. 
77. wroth : suffering, pain, — rather than anger. This earlier 

meaning of the words " wroth " and " wrath " appears in our use 
to-day of " writhe." 

80. They have the wisdom, etc. Their shrewdness and 
attempt to be especially wise is their undoing. 

81. The ancient saying, etc. The old proverb is really true. 
84. what would my lord ?, Spoken, of course, in jest to the 

servant who has just pompously uttered the words, " Where is 
my lady ? " 

236 






Act II, Scene 9. Notes. 

88. sensible regreets : greetings that may be felt or touched, 
such as presents. 

89. to wit: namely. commends: greetings. Compare 
" Richard II," III, I, 38 : "I send to her my kind cominends." 

91. likely : pleasing, promising. 

94. fore-spurrer. The messenger has spurred his horse on to 
arrive before his lord. 

97. high-day wit : holiday, or especially fine, language. " Our 
Fourth of July is a high-day, and we all know what Fourth-of- 
July eloquence is." (Hudson.) 

99. Quick Cupid's post. The postman of the god of love 
would be a fast traveller. In V, 1, 46, Launcelot says, "There's 
a post come from my master." mannerly : politely, graciously. 

100. " May it be Bassanio, O Cupid! " 

QUESTIONS AND TOPICS FOR DISCUSSION 

1. Just what oaths were the suitors obliged to take before 
choosing? 

2. Why do you think Portia's father required them to agree 
to these conditions? 

3. Compare Arragon's reasoning with that of the Prince of 
Morocco. Why have both avoided the leaden casket? 

4. Do you think Portia's father feared that such men as Arra- 
gon would sue for his daughter's hand? How did he plan to 
send them away losers? 

5. Contrast the characters of Morocco and Arragon. Which 
do you like the better? Why? 

6. Compare the different ways in which these two men take 
their defeat. Which is the u better loser " ? 

7. Compare the meter and construction of this scroll with the 
one in the gold casket. 

8. How are the six lines that follow the scroll related to it? 
How do they differ from the rest of the scene? 

9. Compare the ending of this scene with I, 2. 

10. What characteristic of Portia is shown in her reply to the 

237 



Notes. Act III, Scene 1. 



servant, "Here: what would my lord? 1 ' Point out other signs 
of this playful mood in I, 2. 

11. Why do you think the poet has the servant spend such 
"high-day wit" in praising Bassanio's messenger? 

12. Contrast this with the announcement of Morocco's ap- 
proach at the close of I, 2. Contrast also Portia's words on both 
occasions. 

13. In Mr. Beerbohm Tree's production of " The Merchant of 
Venice," Miss Elsie Ferguson, taking the part of Portia, speaks 
the last line of the scene : " Bassanio, lord Love, if thy will it 
be ! " Can you give any reasons for this change ? Which way 
seems the better to you? 

14. When do you think this scene takes place in relation to 
Morocco's choice and Bassanio's departure from Venice? 



ACT III 

Scene 1 

Evidently a long time has elapsed since the end of Act II. 
In his search for Jessica, Tubal has been as far as Genoa ; and 
from Shylock's words to the gaoler, " fee me an officer ; bespeak 
him a fortnight before," it would seem that in two weeks the 
bond will fall due. Yet at the opening of the next scene Bas- 
sanio seems only to have just arrived at Belmont. For a further 
discussion of the time-duration of the play, see p. 106. 

2. it lives there unchecked. The report prevails on the 
Rialto uncontradicted. 

3. the narrow seas : the English Channel. 

4. the Goodwins. The Goodwin sands are dangerous shoals 
off the eastern coast of Kent. 

6. my gossip Report. " Report is figured as a talkative old 
woman, fond of ginger, and full of pretended emotions." (Withers.) 

9. knapped ginger. To knap meant to snap, break in pieces, 
and also to bite or nibble. Either meaning will suit the context 
here. 

238 



Act III, Scene 1. Notes. 

11. slips of prolixity, etc. Without any rambling or beating 
about the bush. Compare "a slip of the tongue/ 1 and Hamlet's 
description of conversation as " the beaten way of friendship." 

15. Come, the full stop : Come, finish your sentence. 

19. betimes : soon, at once. 

19-20. lest the devil cross my prayer, etc. Salanio declares 
that he must say " Amen," or " so be it," to confirm his friend's 
good wishes before the devil comes between them and destroys 
the effect of his prayer. 

26. the wings she flew withal. That is, the clothes she 
wore when eloping with Lorenzo. 

28. complexion : nature, disposition. 

30. She is damned for it. It is impossible for us to believe 
that an enraged and grief-stricken father would in reality answer 
the cruel taunts of his enemies with a pun. But "We must not 
forget/'' as Dr. Furness says, " how dearly Shakespeare loved a 
pun, and how, at times, its attractions are irresistible to him." 
To quibble with words was a fashion among the poets of his day 
which even the great dramatist could not escape. So we shall 
not be surprised to find Antonio punning on the word "heart" in 
his farewell speech to his friend. (IV, I, 281.) 

33. carrion. Here used for a disgusting or loathsome person'. 

36. jet. A kind of coal. Compare "jet-black." 

37. rhenish. Rhenish wines, named from the river Rhine, are 
often spoken of as " white wines " in contrast to those that are 
a darker red. 

40. match : bargain. 

42. smug: brisk, gay. mart: market. 
50. hindered me half a million. Antonio has prevented Shy- 
lock from making half a million ducats. 

62. humility : kindness, humanity. 

63. sufferance: patience. In I, 3, Shylock said, " Sufferance 
is the badge of all our tribe." 

65. and it shall go hard, etc. I will make every effort to sur- 
pass you in what you teach me. 

71. matched: found to match them. 

239 



Notes. Act III, Scene 1. 

77. the curse. Shylock may possibly be thinking of the curse 
denounced against Israel in Deut. xxviii. 15-68, one part of which 
reads : " Thy daughters shall be given unto another people, 
and thine eyes shall look and fail with longing for them all the 
day long." 

79. in that. "Diamond," or "loss, " is understood. 

92. argosy. Compare I, 1, 9, and note. 

103. divers : various ones. 

104. break : fail, become bankrupt. (Look up the origin of the 
word "bankrupt" to find its interesting connection with break.) 

110. my turquoise. The turquoise, which was the stone for 
a lover's ring, was believed to have magical properties, such as 
warning its owner of approaching danger, changing its color if 
the wearer were ill, and reconciling man and wife. It is clear 
that Shylock values his turquoise ring not for the ducats it is 
worth, but for its associations with Leah, who died, we may 
imagine, when Jessica was a little girl. 

115. fee me an officer. Engage an officer for me and bind 
him by paying him a fee. bespeak : engage. 

118. synagogue. A building for Jewish worship and religious 
instruction. " Shakespeare probably intended to add another 
shade of darkness to the character of Shylock by making him 
formally devout while meditating his horrible vengeance/ 1 
(Clarendon.) Do you agree with this explanation of Shylock's 
appointing the synagogue as a meeting-place? 

QUESTIONS AND TOPICS FOR DISCUSSION 

1. With what earlier scene may the conversation between 
Salanio and Salarino be compared? In what respects are these 
places alike? 

2. What do you think of the attitude of the merchants toward 
Shylock? Can you prove from a passage in Act I that Antonio 
would probably have used similar language to the Jew? 

3. In your opinion is the picture of Shylock in this scene 
drawn to arouse our pity or contempt? 

240 



Act III, Scene 1. Notes. 



4. Whatever the motive of the dramatist may have been, how 
do you feel personally after reading Shylock's speech beginning, 
"To bait fish withal"? 

5. What arguments do the merchants have to meet these 
remarkable sentences ? 

6. Do you feel that Shakespeare in this scene is almost 
" ahead of his time," — that he is really pleading Shylock's cause 
against the common treatment of Jews by Christians in his day? 
Discuss fully this point. 

7. Would this scene, in your judgment, have been comedy or 
tragedy to an audience in 1596 ? How and why does it impress 
an audience differently to-day ? 

8. What is there especially dramatic in the report of Tubal to 
Shylock? How would you arrange the setting and action of this 
dialogue ? 

9. In what ways does Tubal seem almost to be trying his best 
to torture his friend throughout his report? 

10. Would this torturing of Shylock be really natural, or is it 
for the amusement of the audience in the pit? Discuss. 

11. How do you feel toward Jessica after hearing Tubal's 
report ? 

12. What is there very human and touching in Shylock's 
exclamation, " It was my turquoise ; I had it of Leah when I was 
a bachelor ! " ? 

13. In what way do you feel that Jessica was already " dead" 
to her father ? 

14. What effect does his daughter's marriage to Lorenzo seem 
to have upon Shylock's attitude toward Antonio ? 

15. What will you say of Shylock's desire for revenge? Is 
this desire perfectly natural and " Christian "? 

16. What would you do if you were Shylock under these very 
circumstances? (Explain and defend your feelings and actions.) 

17. What do you think is meant by the statement that Shy- 
lock " considers himself the depository of the vengeance of his 
race and religion"? Does this seem to you to be Shakespeare's 
conception of Shylock? 

241 



Notes. Act III, Scene 1. 

18. Would the passage beginning, " To bait fish withal" have 
been more or less effective in verse form? Why? 

19. What is the effect of the repeated short questions? 
What is there forceful in this style of argument? 

20. Is there any marked climax in this passage? What do 
you think it is? 

21. " Shakespeare in his prose is often as great as he is in his 
verse. " Support this statement by pointing out the remarkable 
qualities of Shylock's long speech. Compare it with some of the 
finer passages in verse. 

Here is perhaps the most famous prose in all the plays of 
Shakespeare : 

Ham. I will tell you why ; so shall my anticipation prevent 
your discovery, and your secrecy to the king and queen moult no 
feather. I have of late, — but wherefore I know not, — lost all 
my mirth, foregone all custom of exercises : and, indeed, it goes 
so heavily with my disposition, that this goodly frame the earth 
seems to me a sterile promontory ; this most excellent canopy 
the air, look you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical 
roof fretted with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to me 
than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapors. What a piece 
of work is man! How noble in reason! how infinite in faculties! 
in form and moving how express and admirable ! in action how 
like an angel ! in apprehension how like a god ! the beauty of 
the world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me, what is this 
quintessence of dust? Man delights not me ; nor woman neither, 
though by your smiling you seem to say so. 

— Hamlet, II, 2, 304-323. 

22. Do you see any similarity of emotion, style, and construc- 
tion in these two selections ? Why would they be less forceful, 
in your judgment, and less stirring, in regular blank verse ? 



242 



Act III, Scene, 2. Notes. 

ACT III 
Scene 2 

The time duration of this part of the play is puzzling. Ac- 
cording to the simplest arrangement, two weeks have passed 
since the last scene, for we find a little later that the bond is 
forfeit and that Antonio is in danger of losing his life. This 
would mean that Bassanio had been at Belmont already nearly 
three months, since he apparently left Venice a day or two only 
after the bond was signed. Yet from the way the lovers speak, 
from the tone of the entire scene, and especially from Portia's 
words, " I would detain you here some month or two Before you 
venture for me," it is apparent that Bassanio has but just arrived, 
— perhaps only a few hours before the scene opens. This prob- 
lem, which has given the critics a vast amount of bother, but 
which troubles us so little as we read the play, — and still less 
when we see it on the stage, — is discussed and explained on 
page 1 06. 

3. forbear: refrain from (choosing). 

6. Hate counsels, etc. Hatred would cause no such feelings. 

9. some month or two. How naturally and charmingly Por- 
tia's "a day or two " has grown into "some month or two " ! 

11. I am then forsworn: I should be perjured (by breaking 
my oath to my father). 

14. Beshrew. A mild curse or imprecation, generally used 
playfully. (Compare II, 6, 52.) 

15. o'erlooked : bewitched. "To be overlooked \& to receive 
a glance from some one who possesses the power of the evil eye, 
and is the cause of all kinds of mischief." (Jeffries, " Red 
Deer.") 

18. naughty : wicked, bad. The word seems generally with 
Shakespeare to have a stronger meaning than it has to-day, as 
in the expressions "naughty gaoler" and "a naughty world," 
which occur later in the play. 

243 



Notes. Act III, Scene 2. 

20. Prove it so, etc. If this lottery of the caskets brings it to 
pass that I, who am really yours in love, cannot be yours at all, 
then Fortune, or Fate, should suffer the penalty, not I. 

22. peize : retard, suspend. 

23. eke : protract, lengthen. 

24. election : choice. 

25. the rack. An instrument of torture consisting of a frame 
with two crossbars, to which the victim was fastened to be 
stretched, sometimes even to the dislocation of joints. Tortur- 
ing to extract confessions from suspected criminals was not un- 
common in England in the reign of Elizabeth. 

29. fear the enjoying : fear that I shall not enjoy. 

30. amity : friendly relations. 

33. where men enforced, etc. In this line the dramatist ex- 
presses the chief argument against torture. " It is pleasant,' 1 
says Hudson, " to find Shakespeare before his age in denouncing 
this barbarous method of extorting truth. " His denunciation 
probably met with little sympathy in 1598. 

39. The word "go" is understood. (Compare II, 2, 126.) 

44. a swan-like end. From Greek literature has come the 
tradition that the swan sings sweetly just before its death. In 
" Othello " we find " I will play the swan and die in music " ; and 
in "King John" "this pale, faint swan, Who chants a doleful 
hymn to his own death." Ben Jonson addresses Shakespeare as 
" Sweet Swan of Avon ! " 

51. dulcet : soft and sweet. 

54. presence : dignity of bearing or appearance. 

56, The virgin tribute, etc. Hesione, the daughter of Laome- 
don, King of Troy, was chained by her father to a rock, in order 
to be devoured by a sea-monster, that he might thus appease the 
anger of the gods, Apollo and Poseidon. Hercules, or -young 
Alcides," killed the monster and freed the maiden, not, however, 
for love, but to get possession of the famous horses belonging to 
Laomedon. Portia compares herself to Hesione, and her servants 
standing about the room to the " Dardanian wives," or Trojan 
women. 

244 



Act III, Scene 2. Notes. 

59. bleared visages. The faces of the Trojan women are 
blurred or dimmed with tears. 

61. Live thou, I live. That is, "If thou live, or succeed, I 
live." 

Song. Study the construction and meaning of this song very 
carefully. It seems to hint vaguely the way to the right choice. 
For instance, " fancy," in the first line, means apparently love of 
things fantastic or showy, the foolish fancy that has led the other 
suitors astray. What is the fate of this kind of love, as told in 
the song? Then again, do the rhymes of the first three lines, as 
you read them aloud, suggest one of the caskets above the others? 
Does not Bassanio's " so," when he begins to speak, show that he 
has listened to the words of the song, and possibly taken the hint? 

74. still : always, continually, — as often in Shakespeare. 

76. seasoned. " This carries on the metaphor suggested by 
tainted.'" 1 (Rolfe.) 

78. some sober brow : some serious, solemn person. 

79. approve it : justify it, make it good. 

81. simple: unmixed; uncombined with anything else, as in 
the expression, " This is the truth, pure and simple." 

82. his : its, — as usual in Elizabethan writers. 

84. stairs of sand. The Folio of 1623 (see page 141) has here 
" stayers of sand," that is, supports or banks of sand which would 
easily be washed away. Why do you think the editors generally 
prefer "stairs"? What picture in your mind does each leave? 
Which seems the more applicable to " false-hearted cowards " ? 

85. Hercules and frowning Mars. The mightiest of Greek 
heroes and the god of war serve as types of courage and strength 
in contrast to the "stairs of sand." 

86. livers white as milk. A white liver was thought to be a 
" badge of cowardice." Milk-livered and lily-livered occur in 
other plays. (See note on "red blood," II, 1, 6.) 

87. excrement : out-growth, hair, beard. In " Love's Labour's 
Lost " we find " dally with my excrement and my mustachio." 
The meaning is : cowards, in order to be considered brave, 
assume the mere outward signs and symbols of true valor. 

. 2 45 



Notes. Act III, Scene 2. 



88. Look on beauty, etc. This must be artificial beauty, pro- 
cured by painting, ornaments, and show. This artificial beauty 
becomes more valuable the thicker it is laid on, and therefore is 
" purchased by the weight. 1 ' Shakespeare often speaks of " made 
up " complexions, and always with biting sarcasm, as in " Ham- 
let " : "I have heard of your paintings, too ; God has given you 
one face and you make yourselves another." 

91. lightest: most vain and fickle. (For the pun on two 
meanings of "light," see V, i, 129, and note.) 

92. crisped : curled. " His hair is crisp, and black, and long." 

93. wanton : .playful, unrestrained. 

94. Upon supposed fairness : surmounting, — on the head of, — 
imagined beauty. 

95. dowry: property; gift. Shakespeare often denounces 
the custom of wearing false hair, as in Sonnet 68 and " Love's 
Labour's Lost," IV, 3, 258.' "Thatch your poor thin roofs With 
burdens of the dead," from " Timon of Athens," sounds very 
modern. Stow says : " Women's periwigs were first brought 
into England about the time of the massacre of Paris." That 
was in 1572, when Shakespeare was eight years old. 

97. guiled : full of guile, treacherous. 

99. an Indian beauty. Not the English or European type of 
beauty, but rather emphatically Indian beauty, — that is, to 
Shakespeare's audience, ugliness. Professor Gummere says, 
" The beauteous scarf is the deceptive ornament which leads to 
the expectation of something better than an Indian beauty." 
Because of an apparent lack of contrast between " beauteous 
scarf" and "an Indian beauty," and because of the repetition of 
the word " beauty," the passage has been discussed and altered 
by the critics more than any other in the play. Some of the 
words suggested to take the place of " beauty " are : " feature," 
" dowdy," " favour," " gipsy," "visage," "deity," "idol," "black- 
ness." Two large pages of fine print are given by Dr. Furness 
to this one word! 

102. Hard food for Midas. A whole story in a phrase. Midas 
was a king of Phrygia who, according to the Greek legend, ob- 

246 



Act III, Scene 2. Notes. 

tained from the god Bacchus the power of turning whatever he 
touched into gold ; but when his daughter and his food became 
hard metal, he prayed for relief, and obtained it by bathing in 
the river Pactolus, the sands of which thereafter glittered with 
gold. 

103. common drudge : common slave, — that is, silver coin. 

104. meagre : poor, insignificant. 

106. Thy paleness. We must either emphasize Thy, in con- 
trast to the pale of silver in line 103, or read plainness instead of 
paleness, which may be a blunder of the early printers. 

109. as : that is, namely. rash-embraced despair : despair 
too rashly, too quickly felt. 

110. green-eyed jealousy! In "Othello" Iago exclaims, "O, 
beware, my lord, of jealousy ; It is the green-eyed monster. . . ." 

113. scant this excess : make less this excess, — this " surfeit " 
of joy. 

115. surfeit : have too much. 

116. counterfeit : likeness, portrait. " Thou draw'st a coun- 
terfeit Best in all Athens." ("Timon of Athens," V, 1, 83.) 
What demi-god, etc. What man, with powers like those of a 
god, ever came so near creating a living thing? 

118. the balls of mine : my own eyeballs. 

127. unfurnished — with a companion ; unaccompanied by the 
other eye. 

127-129. how far, etc. Just as far as the sum of all my praise 
does injustice to this picture, so far this picture falls short of, — 
" limps behind," — Portia herself. 

131. The continent : that which contains. 

141. I come by note. According to the written directions in 
the scroll, I come to give a kiss and receive the lady. 

142. contending in a prize : contending in a race for a prize. 
158. livings : possessions, property. Later Antonio says to 

Portia, "You have given me life and living." 

160. sum of — something. The dash is inserted before " some- 
thing" to indicate that Portia hesitates for a term with which to 
describe herself modestly. " The full sum of me is — well, some- 

•247 



Notes. Act III, Scene 2. 



thing, — not entirely ideal, to be sure, but such as can be found 
in — an unlessoned girl." in gross : all together. The figure 
here — "account," "sum," "in gross" — is drawn from a mer- 
chant's ledger. 

165. her gentle spirit, etc. The force of the adjective "gen- 
tle" seems to be spread out through the whole phrase, so that it 
is equivalent to " her spirit gently commits itself to yours." 

169. converted : turned over, transferred. 

175. presage : portend, betoken, foretell. 

176. my vantage to exclaim : my opportunity, or my sufficient 
ground, for complaining of you. 

177. bereft : robbed, deprived. 

179. in my powers. We should say, "in my powers of 
speech." 

180. spoke. Both "spoke" and "spoken" occur in Shake- 
speare. (See II, 4, 5.) 

183. blent: blended, mingled. 

183-185. " Each cry is a ' something,' a word with a meaning, 
but when all are mixed together they become ' a wild of nothing ' 
without meaning, — and yet not without meaning, for the very 
noise is expressive of delight." (H. L. Withers.) 

193. You can wish none from me. "I am sure," says Gra- 
tiano, " that you will wish no joy away from me, so that you 
will gain by my loss." He seems to be playing on the double 
meaning of from, i.e. "given by" and "taken from." 

197. so : if, provided that. 

200. the maid. Remember that Nerissa is not a 7naid-ser- 
vant, as we use the term, but rather a companion and friend of 
Portia. The same relationship exists between Gratiano and 
Bassanio. 

201. intermission: delay, standing idle and doing nothing. 
204. as the matter falls : as matters have turned out. 
206. very roof. That is, the roof of his mouth. 

210. achieved : won. " If I achieve not this young modest 
girl " occurs in " The Taming of the Shrew." 

211. so : provided that, — as in line 197 above. 

248 



Act III, Scene 2. Notes. 

213. Yes, faith: yes, indeed. Notice the play upon Bas- 
sanio's " do you mean good faith f " 

216. infidel : one who was not a Christian. Not spoken here 
in scorn or bitterness. 

221. very friends : real or true friends. 

230. ope: An old form of "open, 1 ' common in Shakespeare. 

234. estate: condition, state. On the contrary, in line 262 
we should use " estate " instead of "state. 1 ' The words were 
used interchangeably. 

235. Nerissa, cheer yon stranger, etc. As we already know 
the story of Jessica and the circumstances of her eloping with 
Lorenzo, she is artfully welcomed in dumb-show while the more 
important business of Antonio's letter takes up our attention. 

237. royal: princely, kind and generous. 

239. We are the Jasons, etc. Read again lines 168-172 of 
Act I, Scene 1, and note on line 170. 

240. One critic suggests that we should read "fleets" instead 
of " fleece," thus making Salerio pun on the last word of Gratiano^ 
speech. This is not improbable, but is it necessary for the 
sense? 

241. shrewd: bad, evil, — the original meaning of the word. 

244. constitution : nature, character. 

245. constant : self-possessed, firm. 

246. I am half yourself, etc. In "Julius Caesar" Brutus 1 wife 
— another Portia — says to her husband : 

" No, my Brutus, 
You have some sick offence within your mind, 
Which by the right and virtue of my place 
I ought to know ; . . . 
. . . unfold to me, yourself your half 
Why you are heavy." 

257. state. See note on 234 above. 

260. mere: unqualified, absolute. Similarly in "Othello 11 : 
" Certain tidings importing the mere perdition of the Turkish 
fleet." 

249 



Notes. Act III, Scene 2. 

265. ventures. See I, I, 15, and note. hit: hit the mark, 
reached its goal, succeeded. (Compare "hit or miss.") 

268. The dreadful touch, etc. See I, 1, 29-32. 

271. discharge: pay, — as in the sentence "I will discharge 
thee " in " The Comedy of Errors. 11 

274. confound : ruin, destroy, — as generally in writers of 
Shakespeare^ time. 

276. doth impeach, etc. Shylock threatens to bring action 
against the government of Venice for denying strangers equal 
rights with citizens. 

278-279. magnificoes Of greatest Poet : the grandees, or chief 
men, of noblest rank. 

279. persuaded : argued. 

280. envious : malicious, hateful. 

283. Chus. This name (spelled Cush), like Tubal, Shake- 
speare found in Genesis. 

287. deny: forbid. 

291. the best-conditioned and unwearied spirit. That is, the 
best disposed and most unwearied spirit. The superlative in 
" best " is carried forward mentally to " unwearied," with the re- 
sult that "most" is omitted. 

304. pay the petty debt twenty times over. One of the critics 
has pointed out that Portia offers to pay a sum equal " to at 
least one million dollars now. 11 Of course she did not stop to 
calculate just what she was offering ! Her love and enthusiasm 
lead her to perfectly natural and charming exaggeration. 

309. cheer: countenance, look, face, — the original meaning 
of the word. 

310. Since you are dear bought, etc. These words refer un- 
doubtedly to the anxiety and distress of mind which Portia suf- 
fered during the time when her fate hung on the chance decision 
of her suitors. Notice the play on " dear." 

316. between you and I. The fact that Shakespeare often 
wrote " I " for " me " is not peculiar to him. Writers of his time 
very generally disregarded the inflections of pronouns, using 
" she " for " her," " he " for " him," etc. Thus in line 21 of this 

250 



Act III, Scene 2. Notes. 



scene "I" is grammatically incorrect; indeed, the expression 
u between you and I " seems to have been almost an Elizabethan 
idiom. As a matter of fact, educated people even in the twen- 
tieth century, who otherwise speak correctly, get these same pro- 
nouns badly twisted. 

323. No rest, etc. No delay shall come between us two. 
Notice the arrangement of the last four lines of the scene with 
the alternating rhymes. (See note on the last two lines of I, i.) 

QUESTIONS AND TOPICS FOR DISCUSSION 

1. The main subject of Act II, we have seen, was the elope- 
ment of Jessica. Act III deals chiefly with Bassanio's winning 
of Portia. Why do you think Shakespeare inserted the Shy- 
lock-Tubal scene between these two main episodes ? 

2. Contrast the setting, the spirit, and the tone of the open- 
ing of this scene with the close of the last. 

3. Contrast the Portia of these opening lines with the Portia 
who received Morocco and Arragon. 

4. Why do you think Portia blames the "naughty times" 
rather than her father for the lottery of the caskets ? (18-20.) 

5. What is there gracious, womanly, and noble in Portia's 
words to Bassanio ? (1-24.) 

Does she seem to you to be too outspoken ? 

6. What does she mean by saying " I could teach you How 
to choose right' 1 ? How does she virtually do so? Has she 
kept her word to be " obtained only by the manner of her 
father's will" ? (I, 2, 99-101.) 

7. Explain in your own words just what the song means to 
you. Do you think it contains any hints ? What are they ? 

8. What makes you think that Bassanio listens to the song 
while looking at the inscriptions on the caskets ? What relation 
does it have to his train of thought ? (73-101.) 

9. Put into your own words Bassanio's arguments for choos- 
ing the leaden box. Compare his reasoning with that of Mo- 
rocco and Arragon. 

251 



Notes. Act III, Scene 2. 



10. Would Bassanio's illustrations of his sermon on the text 
" So may the outward shows be least themselves " be suitable to 
use to-day ? Can you think of others just as effective and true ? 

11. Of whom, and where, did Antonio make a remark very 
similar to Bassanio's " So may the outward shows be least them- 
selves " ? Quote the exact lines. 

12. How would you act the part of Portia during Bassanio's 
deliberation upon the caskets ? How at lines 104-107 ? 

13. In what ways does this scene remind you of a fairy story ? 

14. What do you think of Portia's description of herself in 
160-172? Do you like her more or less after reading these lines? 

15. What is the dramatist's reason for having Gratiano and 
Nerissa marry, too? 

16. Why do you think Salerio urged Lorenzo to accompany 
him to Belmont? (226-229.) 

17. How will you explain Bassanio's words, 

"all the wealth I had 
Ran in my veins, — I was a gentleman."? 

Discuss our modern ideals of a gentleman as compared with 
those of an Englishman in the seventeenth century. 

18. In what way is Jessica's evidence (282-288) in keeping 
with her character? 

19. Why do you feel that Antonio's letter would be less 
effective if it were longer and more detailed? How does it seem 
characteristic of the writer? 

20. At what point does the scene begin to turn from happi- 
ness and good cheer to tragedy ? Is this change brought about 
naturally ? Is it dramatically strong or weak ? 

21. How are the stories of the caskets, the pound of flesh, 
and the rings woven together at the close of this scene? 

22. What do you think is the object of bringing Lorenzo and 
Jessica to Belmont? How is their arrival made to seem natural? 

23. How is the play now "hovering between comedy and 
tragedy " ? Can you surmise, without looking ahead, which 
way it is finally going to turn? 

252 



Act III, Scene 3. / Notes. 

24. Compare the meter, construction, and substance of the 
three scrolls found in the caskets. 

25. In what ways are the last four lines (319-323) like other 
scene-endings already noted ? In what ways are they different ? 



ACT III 

Scene 3 

Evidently a day or two has elapsed since the last scene, for 
the bond has become forfeit, and Antonio has been arrested. It 
is the day before his trial. 

2. gratis : without interest. Earlier in the play Shylock said 
of Antonio: "in low simplicity He lends out money gratis.'" 
Find the passage. 

9. naughty : base, good for nothing. Compare this with 
Portia's "naughty times'" and "a naughty world." The word 
generally had a stronger meaning than now. fond : foolish, — 
the original sense of the word. (Cf. II, 9, 27.) 

14. dull-eyed: lacking perception, stupid. 

18. impenetrable : hard-hearted. 

19. kept : lived, dwelt. In New England country people 
still sometimes speak of the living-room as the " keeping-room. 1 ' 

20. bootless : useless, unavailing. 

22. forfeitures : bonds or notes due to Shylock. 

23. made moan: See I, 1, 126, and note. 

25. Will never grant, etc. The duke will never allow this 
to hold good. 

27. For the commodity, etc. " For if the advantages of traffic 
heretofore enjoyed by strangers in Venice be refused them, it 
will seriously impeach the justice of the state." (Rolfe.) See 
line 276 of the previous scene. 

32. bated: depressed, reduced. Shylock has spoken of 
"bated breath" as "a lowered, or humble voice." Can you 
quote the passage? 

2 S3 



Notes. Act III, Scene 4. 



QUESTIONS AND TOPICS FOR DISCUSSION 

1. What do you think Antonio wishes to say to Shylock? Is 
it something important, or does the significance of the scene lie 
elsewhere? 

2. In what ways does this glimpse of Shylock seem prepara- 
tory to the trial of the merchant ? 

3. What is the effect of the repetition of "bond "? Do you 
think it is intentional ? 

4. What does Antonio mean by saying, 

" I oft delivered from his forfeitures 
Many that have at times made moan tome'"? 
Do you think this is the chief reason why Shylock hates his 
victim ? 

5. What, in your opinion, is the purpose of this scene? 
Could it be omitted as well as not ? Explain your answer. 

ACT III 

Scene 4 

After the lovers were married, Bassanio and Gratiano hurried 
away to Venice. Portia and the rest have apparently just come 
back from the church. 

2. conceit: idea, conception. (Compare I, i, 92, and note.) 

3. amity: friendship, — between Bassanio and Antonio. 

7. lover : friend, — as in line 1 7 below. So in " Julius Caesar " : 
"Romans, countrymen, and lovers." 

9. Than customary bounty, etc. Than your ordinary daily 
acts of kindness oblige you to be. 

11. Nor shall not now. See a similar double negative in 
I, 2, 25. 

12. waste: spend, pass, — not with any idea of unprofitably 
just "killing time." 

14. needs : of necessity, — as in II, 4, 29 and in 18 just below. 
14-15. a like proportion of lineaments : a similarity of features 
and character. 

254 



Act III, Scene 4. Notes. 

17. bosom lover : intimate friend, friend of his heart. In 
" Macbeth " King Duncan says of one of his subjects, " No more 
that thane of Cawdor shall deceive our bosom interest. 11 

20. semblance : likeness, image. 

25. The husbandry and manage : The thrifty care and man- 
agement. Hamlet says that "borrowing dulls the edge of hus- 
bandry.''' 1 We use the verb to-day in such expressions as "to 
husband one^ strength, 11 and " to husband the resources. 11 

30. husband: husbands. A similar ellipsis occurs in " Corio- 
lanus 11 : " Nor child nor woman's face. 11 (See also III, 2, 291, 
and II, 1, 46.) 

33. imposition: charge, task. Two lines further on, in "lays 
upon you," Portia translates the word literally from the Latin 
derivation. 

46. thee. Notice that Portia changes from "you, 11 when 
addressing Jessica and Lorenzo, to "thee, 11 when addressing 
Balthasar, a servant. (See note on I, 2, 34.) 

50. cousin. Shakespeare uses this word as we use "kins- 
man, 11 — of anyone that is related to us, or akin. 

52. with imagined speed : with all speed imaginable, or with 
the speed of imagination, — as we say "swift as thought. 11 

53. tranect : ferry. The word has been found nowhere else, 
a fact which led Rowe and other critics to substitute for it 
" traject, 11 as being nearer the Italian " tragheto, 11 a ferry. This 
entire speech is often quoted by those who argue that Shake- 
speare must have been in Italy before writing the play. 

56. convenient: suitable. (Compare II, 8, 45.) "Feed me 
with food convenient for me. 11 (Prov. xxx. 8.) 

60. in such a habit, etc. In such clothes that our husbands 
will think that we are furnished with what we do not really have, 
namely, manhood. 

65. braver : more showy, finer. The word in this sense, and 
the noun "bravery, 11 were often applied to clothes by writers of 
Shakespeare's day. " The Lord will take away the bravery of 
their tinkling ornaments.' 1 (Isaiah iii. 18.) 

67. a reed voice : a squeaky, piping voice, like that of a boy 

2 55 



Notes. Act III, Scene 4. 

when it is changing. mincing : affected, overnice. As an ad- 
jective, the word is almost always applied to one's gait, or style 
of walking. Can you trace its connection with "• mince-meat "? 
69. quaint: clever, ingenious. 

72. I could not do withal. I could not help it ; it was not 
my fault. A common expression in the sixteenth century. 
74. puny lies. Do you think this a forcible expression? 
77. raw: crude, "green." Touchstone, poking fun at the 
shepherd Corin, says, " Thou art raw I " (" As You Like It," 
III, 2, 76.) Jacks: fellows. A term of contempt often found 
in Shakespeare. A most interesting word to study in a large 
dictionary. 

60-78. It is interesting to compare Portia's bright and charm- 
ing description of herself, when disguised as a "bragging Jack," 
with a passage in " As You Like It," written probably two years 
after " The Merchant of Venice." The situation is much the 
same, for Rosalind, the heroine of the play, is explaining to her 
companion how she will act when attired as a man. 
Ros. Were it not better, 

Because that I am more than common tall, 
That I did suit me all points like a man? 
A gallant curtle-axe upon my thigh, 
A boar-spear in my hand ; and — in my heart 
Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will — 
We'll have a swashing and a martial outside, 
As many other mannish cowards have 
That do outface it with their semblances. 

— As You Like It, I, 3, 1 16-124. 

QUESTIONS AND TOPICS FOR DISCUSSION 

1. Why do you think this scene is often omitted in a modern 
presentation of "The Merchant"? What part of it is the most 
important? 

2. What new purpose now appears for having Lorenzo and 
Jessica go to Belmont? 

256 



Act III, Scene 5. Notes. 



3. Compare Portia here with the Portia of earlier scenes. Of 
what particular incident are you reminded? 

4. Do you think that Portia has already in her own mind ar- 
guments to offer on Antonio's behalf at the trial, or is she send- 
ing to her cousin, Doctor Bellario, for all her ideas ? Discuss this 
problem from several angles. For instance, she says to Baltha- 
sar : " Be careful of what notes and garments he doth give thee." 
Yet would she have started out for the court-room in Venice, 
disguised as a lawyer, without something of her own to contribute ? 

ACT III 

Scene 5 

1-2. the sins of the father, etc. Another reference to the 
Bible. "Visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children." 
(Exodus xx. 5, and elsewhere.) 

3. fear you : fear for you, worry on your account. 

4. agitation. Launcelot's blunder for " cogitation, 1 ' or thought. 
Remember the clown's similar blunders all through II, 2. What 
ones do you recall ? 

9. enow: enough, — generally used with plural nouns. 

10-11. will raise the price of hogs, etc. Launcelot is refer- 
ring, of course, to the custom among Jews of not eating the flesh 
of the hog in any form. -Remember Shylock's "Yes, to smell 
pork! ... I will buy with you, sell with you, talk with you, 
. . . but I will not eat with you, drink with you, nor pray with 
you." (I, 3, 31-36-) 

12. rasher : a thin slice of meat, — said only of bacon! 

18. are out : at odds, out of harmony. 

22. I think the best grace of wit, etc. " A shrewd proof," 
says Hudson, " that the poet rightly estimated the small wit, the 
puns and verbal tricks, in which he so often indulges," — to 
please, of course, the crowd in the pit of the theatre, who liked 
such "parrot-talk" and "wit-snapping." 

27. Goodly Lord. A Shakespearean expression somewhat like 

257 



Notes. Act III, Scene 5. 



our "Lordy!" or "O, goody Lord!" wit-snapper: jester, 

punster. Compare this with the expression " to crack a joke." 

32. Not so, sir, neither, etc. Launcelot plays upon the two 
meanings of the word " cover," — to set the table and to put on 
one's hat. 

33. quarreling with occasion. By punning and joking, Laun- 
celot goes against, or slights, the main subject of conversation. 

40. humors and conceits: feelings and fancies. 

42. dear discretion : discrimination, sound sense (just what 
Launcelot most lacks). suited : suited to each other, matched, 
arranged, — said probably in irony with just the opposite meaning. 

45. A many fools : many a fool. We strangely enough use 
the article with "few," but no longer with "many." 

46. garnished : equipped, furnished (with words, or possibly, 
with discretion, if Lorenzo is speaking ironically throughout the 
passage). tricksy: clever, "smartish." 

47. Defy the matter : forsake, or slight, the matter in hand. 
The expression is almost exactly equivalent to " quarreling with 
occasion "in 33 above. " I know many fellows," says Lorenzo, 
" of higher rank, too, than Launcelot here, who in their fondness 
for playing on words and chasing after puns, sacrifice the matter 
they are talking about." (Compare this passage with lines 22- 
24, and see note.) How cheer'st thou: How do you feel? 
What cheer? 

48. sweet: sweetheart. Often used by Shakespeare as a 
term of endearment. 

54. mean it. Probably a misprint for " merit it," though 
" mean " may possibly be interpreted as " moderation," " the 
golden mean." The word, however, is nowhere else in Shake- 
speare used as a verb. Rolfe says of the expression Mean it : 
intend to live an tipright life. This is one of those passages, 
happily fewer in " The Merchant " than in most of the other 
plays, for which every critic has a different suggestion, and upon 
which page after page of profitless comment has been written. 

59. pawned : staked, wagered. 

63. anon: soon, presently. 

258 



Act IV, Scene 1. Notes. 



64. stomach: appetite, inclination. "He which hath no 
stomach to this fight, Let him depart!" ("King Henry V," 
IV, 3, 34.) Of course Jessica has in mind both her inclination 
to praise Lorenzo and her appetite for dinner. 

67. Set you forth : set forth your virtues, praise you. 

QUESTIONS AND TOPICS FOR DISCUSSION 

1. This scene is never presented on the stage to-day. Dis- 
cuss the reasons for omitting it altogether. 

2.' When do you think it takes place in relation to Portia's 
departure and the trial of Antonio? 

3. Are you interested enough in Launcelot to want to see 
more of him ? 

4. What marked contrast does this scene make with that 
which follows ? Is this perhaps its chief purpose ? 

ACT IV 

Scene 1 

1. What: well. Compare this with Shylock's "What, Jes- 
sica!" in II, 5, 3 and 4. 

5. void and empty from, etc. Lacking any particle of mercy. 

7. qualify : soften, moderate, mitigate. 

8. obdurate: unmoved, hard. 

9. And that. Shakespeare often uses " that " instead of re- 
peating " since." 

10. envy: ill-will, hatred, — the earlier meaning of the word. 
13. tyranny: cruelty. The "very" merely emphasizes the 

tyranny, as we say, "he is a very rascal." 

18. lead'st this fashion, etc. You are keeping up this show 
of hatred only until the final moment of action. 

20. remorse: compassion, pity, — as usual in Shakespeare. 
Our "remorseless," in fact, means "pitiless." 

21. apparent : not real, seeming. 

259 



Notes. Act IV, Scene 1. 

22. where : whereas. 

24. loose the forfeiture : release Antonio from the bond. 

26. moiety : half, — but used often for any portion or part. 

29. enow. See III, 5, 9, and note. A royal merchant. 
"This expression was well understood in Shakespeare's time, 
when Sir Thomas Gresham was honored with the title of the 
royal merchant, both from his wealth, and because he transacted 
the mercantile business of Queen Elizabeth." (Rolfe.) (See 
III, 2, 237.) 

30. commiseration of his state : pity for his condition. 

34. A gentle answer. It has been suggested that possibly 
the duke is punning here on the word "gentile." Why does 
this seem unlikely? (See note on III, 1, 30.) 

35. possessed: informed. Remember Shylock's, "Is he yet 
possessed How much ye would? " 

37. To have the due and forfeit : to have the forfeit which is 
due. A good illustration of hendiadys, — as, " with might and 
main" for "with main strength." An interesting construction 
to investigate. 

39. your city's freedom: the rights of strangers in your city. 
(See note on III, 2, 276.) 

43. But, say, it is my humor : But, let us say, it is my whim, 
— my special notion. Any peculiar quality of mind was a humor. 
" The Jew being asked a question which the law does not require 
him to answer, stands upon his right and refuses, but then adds 
in malignity, i However, if you must have an answer, will this 
do?'" (Johnson.) 

46. baned : poisoned. We have " ratsbane " = rat-poison, 
and " baneful," as " baneful gases." 

47. A gaping pig. A Christmas dinner in England always 
has the boar's head served with a lemon in its open, gaping, 
mouth. "They stand gaping like a roasted pig" occurs in the 
" Elder Brother," a play by Fletcher, who was one of Shake- 
speare's fellow-dramatists. Malone quotes from J^ashe, a com- 
panion poet, — " Some will take on like a mad man if they see a 
pigge come to table." 

260 



Act iv, Scene l. Notes. 

49-50. For affection, Mistress of passion, etc. For impulse, 
which controls our emotions, arouses in them various moods 
corresponding to itself, and these may be either moods of sym- 
pathy or hatred. The impulse, or "affection, 1 ' here, of course, is 
the feeling caused by seeing a gaping pig or a cat. 

56. lodged : settled, firm, fixed. 

60. current: course. What picture does the figure make in 
your mind ? 

64. offence : sense of wrong, injured feeling. 

66. think you question : remember that you argue or debate 
with the Jew. To-day we often use " question," as a noun, in this 
sense. 

68. main flood : the ocean, the " main." bate : abate, decrease. 
" Time and tide wait for no man." 

70. ewe. See I, 3, 84, and note. 

73. fretten. An old participle form of fret, for fretted — 
vexed, agitated, swayed. 

78. brief and plain conveniency: with as speedy and as 
prompt action as is suitable. 

79. have judgement : receive my sentence. 

85. doing no wrong. Shylock here means evidently by 
" wrong " that which is contrary to law. He argues that he is 
in the right when he claims the fulfilment of legal obligations. 

88. in abject and in slavish parts : in low and servile duties. 

96. dearly bought. Remember Portia's " Since you are dear 
bought, I will love you dear." Can you find the line? 

100. upon my power : in accordance with my authority ; by 
my legal right. 

110. a tainted wether : a sick, diseased sheep of the flock, 
most fit, — meetest, — to die. Compare these words with 
Antonio's remarks about his sadness and melancholy at the 
opening of the play. Do you admire the calm and resigna- 
tion of the merchant during the trial? Is this attitude in 
keeping with his character as it has been drawn for you by the 
dramatist? 

119. sole . . . soul. These same words are played upon in 

261 



Notes. . Act IV, Scene 1, 

the opening lines of " Julius Caesar," — a passage that illustrates 
admirably the fashion of the times for quibbling and punning. 
These two words, however, were not pronounced by Shakespeare 
so nearly alike as they are to-day. 

121. hangman : executioner. A former method of putting 
people to death was by cutting off their heads with an axe. 

122. envy: hatred, malice. (See "envious" in III, 2, 280, 
and "envy" in 10 above.) 

124. inexorable: unrelenting, unmoved by prayers. All the 
earlier editions of the play have " inexecrable," that is, " atro- 
cious," " that which cannot be cursed enough," — a reading that 
several critics prefer. Which one, however, carries on better 
Gratiano's question, " Can no prayers pierce thee? " 

125. And for thy life, etc. For allowing thee to live so long 
justice should be accused or impeached. 

127. Pythagoras. A Greek philosopher who is said to have 
been the first one to teach the doctrine of transmigration of souls, 
that is, the passing of the souls of men after death into animals, 
from which they returned later to new-born children, and thus 
began another human period in their endless course. This 
strange old superstition may have sprung from the fact that cer- 
tain striking characteristics of animals do appear in some people. 
Gratiano thus sees in Shylock the starved and bloody cruelty of 
a wolf. Have you ever seen persons who somehow suggested to 
you other animals, such as, for instance, a pig? A mule? A 
goose? A fox? A peacock? A mouse? A lion? A snake? 

129. currish : suited to a cur, base. 

130. hanged for human slaughter. In olden times animals 
were frequently tried in the courts, and, if found guilty, put to 
death like human criminals. In France as late as 1740 a cow was 
executed after a regular, formal trial. 

131. fell: cruel, inhuman, barbarous. 

132. unhallowed : unholy, cursed, detestable. 
134. ravenous : hungry, furious and greedy. 

138. cureless : incurable. The folio editions have " endless 
ruin." 

262 



Act IV, Scene 1. Notes. 

145. Bellario's letter. Consider this letter carefully in its 
relation to Portia's part in the trial. (See questions and topics 
at the end of this scene.) 

154. importunity : urgent request. 

155. to fill up : to fulfil. in my stead : in my place, instead 
of my coming. 

156. no impediment, etc. Let his youth be no hindrance to his 
receiving a high opinion. This sentence is another illustration of 
two negatives, where modern grammatical usage demands only one. 

164. take your place. Portia comes as a judge, not as a 
lawyer. Therefore the duke invites her to take her place on the 
judge's bench. 

165. difference: dispute, difference of opinion. 

166. question : trial. 

167. throughly. "Through" and "thorough" are different 
spellings of the same word. Shakespeare uses them interchange- 
ably to suit the metre. In II, 7, 42, Morocco said that the 
" wilds of wide Arabia 1 ' were throughfares now. 

172. Yet in such rule, etc. Yet in such due form that the law 
of Venice can raise no objection to your procedure. 

174. within his danger. A legal expression about equivalent 
to " within his control." 

177. On what compulsion must I? Portia has told Shylock 
that it is his duty inorally to be merciful. "On what compul- 
sion " shows that the Jew understands Portia's " must " as 
indicating a legal obligation. 

178. The quality of mercy. We should say simply " mercy," 
or "the virtue, mercy." strained: forced, constrained by law, 
— referring to Shylock's "On what compulsion must If' 

180. it is twice blest: it has a two-fold power of blessing, — 
as the next line explains. 

182. 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest. Mercy has its greatest 
power, — is a virtue of special glory, — in kings and lords. 
Professor Hudson remarks here : " It was evidently a favorite 
idea with Shakespeare that the noblest and most amiable thing is 
power mixed with gentleness." 

163 



Notes. Act IV, Scene 1. 

184. shows: represents. temporal power: power in civil 
and political matters, as distinguished from spiritual power. 

185. the attribute to: the symbol of, the thing attributed to 
awe-inspiring majesty. Notice again the hendiadys in "awe and 
majesty.'" (See line 37 above, and note.) 

191. seasons : moderates, tempers. 

193. in the course of justice, etc. If God, showing no mercy, 
were to act toward us merely on the principle of justice, none of 
us would ever reach heaven. 

194. we do pray, etc. What words of the Lord's Prayer does 
Portio refer to here and in the next line? 

196. spoke: spoken, — as in III, 2, 180, and often in Shake- 
speare. 

197. mitigate: soften, render less severe, "season," as in 191 
above. 

198. follow: insist upon, follow up. 
202. discharge : pay, as in III, 2, 271. 

208. truth : honesty. It is malice, not honesty, that makes 
this appeal to the law. 

209. wrest once the law to your authority : take the law for 
once into your own hands ; use your power once and change the 
law. 

215. error: not so much a "mistake" as a "departure from 
the regular course of law." 

.217. A Daniel. The story of the youthful Daniel judging and 
convicting the Elders is told in the " History of Susanna," a short 
book set apart from the Bible in the Apocrypha. 

221. thrice. In line 204 Bassanio offered twice the sum. 
How do you account for Portia's changing the amount? 

223. Shall I lay perjury, etc. Shall I perjure myself by 
breaking my oath? 

224. forfeit: forfeited, due. 

227- Nearest the merchant's heart. When the matter of a 
bond was first mentioned in I, 3, 135-140, Shylock said, you 
remember, that a pound of Antonio's flesh was " to be cut off 
and taken in what part of your body pleaseth me." Probably 

264 



Act IV, Scene 1. Notes. 

before the bond was finally signed we are to imagine that 
the Jew expressed his choice to be "nearest the merchant's 
heart." 

229. according to the tenor : according to the substance, or 
agreement, of the bond. 

233. a well-deserving pillar. Similarly we often say, " He is 
a pillar of the church. 1 ' What is the picture made by this 
figure ? 

236. I stay here on : I stand by. 

242. Hath full relation, etc. The law clearly states that this 
penalty, which according to the bond is now due, should be 
paid. 

245. more elder. Double comparatives and superlatives occur 
frequently in Shakespeare and in writers of his day. "The most 
boldest and best hearts of Rome, 1 ' and " his more braver daugh- 
ter," are examples from "Julius Caesar" and "The Tempest." 

249. balance : balances, scales. Though used here in its 
singular form, the word is plural in sense, referring to the two 
parts which make the balance. (Note Shylock's " them " in the 
next line, referring to "balance.") 

251. on your charge : at your expense. 

258. I am armed, etc. Compare these words with Antonio's 
first words in this scene, lines 7-13. 

262. it is still her use : it is always her custom. 

269. speak me fair in death: "speak well of me when I am 
dead," or possibly, " speak well of the way in which I died." 
Which do you prefer? 

271. a love: a friend, as in III, 4, 13 and 17. 

275. presently: instantly. with all my heart. Antonio's 
jest, playing upon the double meaning of the expression " with 
all my heart," seems to increase the pathos of the scene. Can 
you explain why? Compare this with Shylock's pun on "dam" 
(III, 1, 30), and see note on that passage. 

277. which. "Who" and "which" were used formerly to 
refer both to persons and to things. The first words of the Lord's 
Prayer illustrate this well. 

265 



Notes. Act IV, Scene 1. 

290. Barrabas. A robber and murderer whom Pilate, to 
please the multitude, released from prison instead of Jesus. The 
name was generally accented on the first syllable in Shake- 
speare's time ; to-day it is Bar-dbbas. 

298. Come, prepare ! Probably Shylock springs forward, knife 
raised, toward Antonio. With Portia's interruption, " Tarry a 
little," comes the turning point of the trial. 

305. confiscate : confiscated, forfeited. Similar participles, 
used as adjectives, found in the plays are, dedicate, situate, con- 
secrate. 

321. just: exact. 

322. substance: amount, mass. 

324. one poor scruple. A scruple is an apothecaries 1 weight 
of twenty grains, or one twenty-fourth of an ounce. 

325. in the estimation of a hair. If the scales " tip " more 
or less than a pound, by so little as the weight of a hair, thou 
diest, etc. 

328. on the hip. A phrase from the language of wrestling, 
equivalent to " cornered," or " up a tree, 1 ' from hunting. Gra- 
tiano's use of these words seems especially appropriate when we 
remember that Shylock himself used them of Antonio in the 
first act. 

" If I can catch him once upon the hip 
I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. 11 (I, 3, 43.) 

340. I'll stay no longer question : Til wait for no further dis- 
cussion. 

341. The law hath yet another hold on you, etc. It has been 
suggested that what follows is Doctor Bellarkrs contribution to 
the case, and that the quibble about the blood and the "just 
pound 11 is Portia^. Do you agree? (See questions at end of 
scene.) 

346. 'gainst the which : against whom he plots. 

347. seize. A common legal term meaning to " take posses- 
sion of by virtue of legal authority. 11 

348. privy coffer : treasury. 

349. in the mercy. We should say " at the mercy. 11 Since 

266 



Act IV, Scene 1. Notes. 

Shakespeare wrote, time has brought about perhaps more 
changes in the use of prepositions than in any other part of 
speech. 

356. formerly: just now, a moment ago, "above." 

366. Which humbleness, etc. : which due humility on your 
part may lead me to change to a fine. 

367. Ay, for the state, etc. Apparently Portia means to 
suggest that the state's portion may be made a fine, but not 
Antonio's. 

368. pardon. As in the duke's address to Shylock, the word 
has the meaning almost of " release," " absolve." 

373. gratis : free of charge, for nothing. Remember Shy- 
lock's remark about Antonio, " He lends out money gratis." 1 ' 1 
Where does it occur? 

375. To quit the fine of, etc. To give up the fine of one half 
of Shylock's goods, which the Duke said would come to the 
"general state." 

376. I am content, etc. The plan which Antonio suggests is 
this : " Let the duke remit the fine and give the Jew one half of 
his goods. I approve of this course, however, only on con- 
dition that I have the other half to give to Lorenzo and Jessica 
after Shylock's death, — until then using it as capital in my 
business." Shylock is thus to have one half of his estate; 
Antonio is to hold the other half in trust for Lorenzo and 
Jessica. 

385. recant: withdraw, retract. 

392. In christening. That is, when Shylock is made to "be- 
come a Christian." 

393. ten more. This would make a jury of twelve to condemn 
him to the gallows, not baptize him. 

396. I humbly do desire, etc I humbly beg your grace's 
pardon. So in " Othello," " I humbly do beseech you of your 
pardon." 

398. presently: immediately, at once, — as already several 
times in the play. Can you find one in this scene? 

400. gratify : reward, recompense. 

267 



Notes. Act IV, Scene 1. 

404. in lieu whereof: in consideration of which. 

406. cope: reward, pay, — a very unusual meaning of the 
word. withal. " This emphatic form of with is used generally 
after the object at the end of a sentence." (Abbott, quoted by 
Furness.) 

412. My mind was never yet more mercenary : I had no 
intention of making money when I came here, but only wanted 
to save you. 

415. of force : of necessity, perforce. attempt : tempt, 
urge. 

421. love : friendship, as two lines further on, and several 
times earlier in the play. 

423. shall. We to-day would say a will." . 

425. to give : by giving. 

427. methinks : I think, it seems to me. (See below, 
line 433.) 

430. find it out by proclamation. "Proclamation" literally 
means a "calling out.'" Very likely Bassanio would hire boys to 
go about Venice " crying out," or advertising, for the most 
valuable ring in the city. (Look up " crier " and " town-crier " 
in a large dictionary.) 

445. commandment. To make the metre of the line correct 
this word should be pronounced in four syllables, — " com-man- 
de-ment." In fact, it is so spelled in the early editions of the 
play, and elsewhere in Shakespeare. 

449. you and I will thither presently : you and I will go 
there at once. 

QUESTIONS AND TOPICS FOR DISCUSSION 

1. Describe the setting of the court of justice as you imagine 
it. What is there impressive about the opening of the scene? 
Compare and contrast it with the scene of Bassanio's choice. 

2. Describe Shylock's entrance. How does he look to you? 
Where does he stand in relation to the other characters ? How 
would you act the part here at the opening of the scene? 

268 



Act IV, Scene l. Notes. 

3. Explain and comment upon Antonio's attitude toward his 
fate here and throughout the scene. 

4. In what passages do Bassanio, Antonio, and Gratiano 
speak and act just as we should expect from what we already 
know of them ? 

5. What are Shylock' s three distinct arguments for taking the 
pound of flesh ? Are they convincing to you ? 

6. Do you think Bassanio is right when he says, " This is no 
answer, thou unfeeling man " ? 

7. Do you believe that Bassanio would really let Shylock have 
his " flesh, blood, bones, all " before Antonio should lose one drop 
of blood ? Would the Jew accept this substitute ? (Give reasons 
for your answer.) 

8. Note that sooner or later all the women of the play wear 
the disguise of men. Why did such disguises seem more natural 
to the Elizabethan audience than they do to us to-day? (See 
page 1 86.) 

9. What effect do the taunting remarks of Gratiano have 
throughout the scene? Would it be better to omit them? 

10. What makes you think that the Duke had sent to Doctor 
Bellario some time before the trial? 

11. How much of the letter from the "learned Doctor," in 
your opinion, is the absolute truth, and how much pure inven- 
tion? (Support your opinion with quotations.) 

12. Follow the course of Portia's journey and actions from 
the time she left Belmont until she enters the court-room. What 
do you find difficult to explain? 

13. Is it necessary to have every minute incident of a story 
possible and explainable ? (Give reasons for your answer, and 
illustrations from books you have read.) 

14. Why do you think Portia urges Shylock to be merci- 
ful ? Do you believe that she really hopes to change his 
mind? 

15. What calls forth Portia's eloquent plea for mercy? 

16. Why does Portia, in your opinion, keep Antonio in sus- 
pense, and at first seem to favor Shylock ? 

269 



Notes. Act IV, Scene 1. 

17. In what way is she far-sighted in her offer of " thrice thy 
money 1 ' ? 

18. What is the humor of the situation in lines 276-287? 

19. Explain how these lines (276-287) are a sort of relief to 
the " tragic strain of the trial." 

20. Picture the scene on the stage at the moment Shylock 
cries, "A sentence! Come, prepare!" What will you have 
Bassanio do at this moment ? Antonio ? Gratiano ? The Duke ? 
Shylock? 

21. What do you think Portia does when she says, "Tarry a 
little " ? 

22. In what way is this expression, " Tarry a little," the cli- 
max of the scene and the turning-point of the whole play? 

23. What do you think of Portia's arguments against taking 
the pound of flesh? Would they hold in a court to-day? 

24. Explain what Shylock's thoughts and feelings, in your 
opinion, are when Portia says, " Why doth the Jew pause?" 

25. What does Dr. Furness mean when he says that the play 
at this point (line 339) is " trembling between tragedy and 
comedy " ? 

26. How might the dramatist have made it a tragedy here? 
Why do you think he did not do so? 

27. Put yourself in Shylock's place and imagine just what you 
would have done at this moment of the trial. Does Shakespeare 
have him act consistently with his character, as you understand 
it? 

28. What is Portia's third point against Shylock? Do you 
think this last argument stronger or weaker than her first two ? 
Give your reasons. 

29. What part of the case against Shylock do you believe was 
furnished by Dr. Bellario? What, if any, by Portia? 

30. Describe Shylock's departure from the court-room. How, 
in your judgment, does he look and act? How would you play 
the part here? 

31. What are your own feelings toward the old man when he 
says : 

270 



Act IV, Scene 1. Notes. 

" I am not well : send the deed after me 
And I will sign it " ? 

32. "To the audience of 1600 Shylock's defeat and abject 
misery were comic; with Gratiano it jeered and hooted. To us 
to-day the same scene is pathetic and almost tragic.'" Explain, 
as far as you can, this change of feeling since 1597. (See page 

33. How far do you think Shakespeare shared the feelings of 
his audience as expressed by Gratiano? Do you see any evi- 
dence that he looked upon the scene from the twentieth century 
point of view ? 

34. What do you think of the conditions laid down by An- 
tonio in lines 374-384? Is there any one of these that seems to 
you especially cruel and entirely unnecessary? Why so? 

35. Picture Shylock after he leaves the court. Would the 
play be improved, in your judgment, if we were given another 
glimpse of the old man? 

36. Contrast the spirit and tone of the last part of this scene 
with that of the trial when Shylock was on the stage. How do 
you account for the change? 

37. Why do you think some critics believe that the play 
should end with Shylock's exit? What is your own opinion? 

38. Do you understand now why Kean, Booth, Irving, and 
other great actors have taken the part of Shylock rather than 
that of Bassanio or Antonio ? 

39. Why do you think this " trial scene " is ranked among the 
greatest in Shakespeare's plays? In what ways is it superior, in 
your judgment, to the scene of Bassanio's choice? 

40. Quote the three finest passages in the scene and give 
reasons for your selection. 



271 



Notes. Act IV, Scene 2. 



ACT IV 
Scene 2 

5. You are well o'erta'en : you are fortunately overtaken ; I 
am glad Fve found you. 

6. upon more advice : upon further reflection or considera- 
tion. Remember that Bassanio said in the first scene of the 
play that he shot another arrow " with more advised watch." 

16. old swearing. The word " old " was evidently used in 
Shakespeare's time in the familiar, playful sense of " great, 11 
" fine, 11 — much as it is to-day. For instance, we have no thought 
of age when we speak of " a high old time/ 1 nor when we say 
to a friend, " Well, how are you, old chap ? " nor when, upon 
finding Bobby eating the jam, we exclaim, " You old sinner ! " 

18. outface: brave, defy, look them out of countenance. 

QUESTIONS AND TOPICS FOR DISCUSSION 

1. What two purposes does this short scene seem to fullfil ? 
Why should we expect to find it entirely omitted in a modern 
presentation of the play ? 

2. What piece of the plot is now left to be developed ? Is 
this important enough in itself to sustain your interest ? 

3. Do you already see how this part of the story is going to 
give the final touch of comedy and make a happy ending ? 

4. In what spirit, and for what purpose, do you think Portia 
and Nerissa get their husbands 1 rings ? 

5. Why do you think Shakespeare leaves to our imagination 
the conference between Nerissa, disguised as the clerk, and 
Gratiano ? 

6. When does this scene take place in relation to the trial ? 



272 



Act V, Scene 1. Notes. 

ACT V 

Scene 1 

It is late evening of the day of the trial, — indeed, before the 
scene closes Portia says, " It is almost morning. 11 (See p. 106.) 

1. The moon shines bright. '-The poefs pen has nowhere 
given more striking proof of its power than in the Scene 
of the Garden of Belmont. We find ourselves transported 
into the grounds of an-Italian palazzo of the very first class, and 
we soon perceive them to be of surpassing beauty and of almost 
boundless extent. . . . There are terraces and flights of steps, 
cascades and fountains, broad walks, avenues, and ridings, 
with alcoves and banqueting-houses in the rich architecture of 
Venice. It is evening ; a fine evening of summer, which tempts 
the masters of the scene to walk abroad. . . . The moon is in 
the heavens, full-orbed and shining with, steady lustre. On the 
greensward fall the ever-changing shadows of the lofty trees, 
which may be mistaken for fairies sporting by moonlight ; where 
trees are not the moonbeams 'sleep upon the bank. 1 The dis- 
tant horn is heard ; and even sweeter music floats upon the 
breeze. 11 (Hunter, quoted by Furness.) 

When the curtain rose for this scene in the production of the 
play by Sir Henry Irving, the audience sat hushed and spell- 
bound by the beauty of the moon-lit garden before them, and 
then, often before a word was spoken, broke into loud applause for 
the setting. Was this, however, Shakespearean? (See p. 182.) 

As you read this act notice the remarkable difference between 
it and the tense, almost tragic trial scene that has just closed. 
Here we have comedy, pure romance, beauty, and happiness. 
Shakespeare usually ends his plays in this quiet fashion, and not 
at the very climax of excitement. 

in such a night. Another illustration of the change in the use 
of prepositions. Of course we would say, "On such a night. 11 
(See note on IV, 1, 349.) The repetition of this phrase has 

2 73 



Notes. Act V, Scene 1. 

almost the effect of a refrain that gives " added charm to one of 
the most beautiful passages that Shakespeare ever wrote. 1 ' 

4. Troilus. A Trojan prince, one of King Priam's sons. He 
fell in love with Cressida, the daughter of Calchas, who during 
the siege of Troy had deserted to the Greeks. The story forms 
the theme of one of Shakespeare's minor tragedies, " Troilus 
and Cressida." The poet undoubtedly got the material for this 
play, as well as the suggestions for Cressid, Thisbe, and Dido in 
this scene, from Chaucer's "Troilus and Cressida" and "Legend 
of Good Women." 

7. Thisbe. A Babylonian maiden, who, planning to meet her 
lover by night at the tomb of Ninus, reached the spot, only to be 
frightened away by a lioness. She fled, leaving her veil behind, 
which the animal tore to pieces and covered with blood. Soon 
after Pyramus appeared, and believing that Thisbe had been 
murdered, killed himself. A little later the maiden returned, and 
seeing her lover lying dead on the ground, put an end to her 
own life. 

The story of Pyramus and Thisbe, which is beautifully told by 
the Roman poet Ovid in the fourth book of his " Metamorpho- 
ses," Shakespeare uses at length in "A Midsummer Night's 
Dream," where the legend is acted out in burlesque by the 
workmen of Athens for the entertainment of the king and 
queen. 

Shakespeare seems to have been particularly fond of Ovid, 
whose poems he may have read in the original Latin, but more 
likely in Golding's translation, which was published in 1564, the 
the very year of our poet's birth. 

10. Dido. The founder and queen of Carthage, an ancient city 
on the northern shores of Africa. She fell in love with yEneas, 
who after the fall of Troy visited Carthage in the course ' of his 
wanderings. The hero, however, urged by the prophecies of 
the gods, sailed away to found Rome and a new empire in 
Italy. willow. The willow was a symbol of grief for the dead, 
and also of forsaken, unrequited love. 

11. waft: wafted, waved. 

274 



Act V, Scene 1. Notes. 

13. Medea. It was by the aid of the sorceress, Medea, 
daughter of the King of Colchis, that Jason finally won the 
Golden Fleece. With her the hero then fled from her enraged 
father back to Greece, where he married the enchantress. 
According to the legend as told by Ovid, she drew blood from 
the veins of aged ^son, Jason's father, and supplied its place with 
the juice of herbs, thus restoring to him his youthful strength 
and vigor. 

Where have we found already twice in this play references 
to the famous old story of Jason and the Golden Fleece ? 

15. steal. Though this word is generally explained in its 
literal sense of "rob," referring to the ducats and jewels that 
Jessica carried away from her father's house, may we not think 
that Lorenzo merely means " steal away," " elope " ? When he 
refers to himself in the next line as " an unthrifty (poor) lover," 
he may be simply contrasting himself to " the wealthy Jew," and 
not suggesting that Jessica stole to provide his own lack of 
money. What are your objections to the explanation of " steal " 
as meaning " rob " ? 

21. shrew: a woman of scolding, nagging, disagreeable tem- 
per. One of Shakespeare's comedies is " The Taming of the 
Shrew." Lorenzo uses the word, of course, in the playful spirit 
of the whole scene. 

23. out-night you : " go you one better " in these examples of 
certain famous nights. So we have "out-number," "out-sail," 
"out-sleep," etc. 

31. holy crosses. " These are very common in Italy- Besides 
those in churches, they mark the spots where heroes were born, 
where saints rested, where travellers died. They rise on hill- 
tops and at the intersection of roads." (Knight.) 

35. nor have we not. Remember other double negatives of 
which we have spoken. (See I, 2, 25 and II, 1, 43.) 

39. Sola, sola! wo ha, ho! Launcelot seems to be trying to 
imitate the sounds of the post-horn. (See below in 46 and 47.) 

46. post : messenger. 

47. horn. Messengers and " postmen," in olden times, carried 

275 



Notes. Act V Scene 1. 



horns, which they blew on approaching a place where they had 
something to deliver. 

49. expect : await. 

51. signify : announce. 

57. become the touches : suit the notes of, etc. Do you agree 
with this statement? 

59. patines. A paten, or patine, is a small plate, usually made 
of gold, on which the Eucharist, or consecrated bread, is pre- 
sented to communicants. 

60. orb : circle, sphere, — here, of course, star. "In hardened 
orbs the school-boy moulds the snow." (Gay, " Trivia," II, 329.) 

61. in his motion: in its moving, revolving. Literature is 
full of references to the "music of the spheres." As far back as 
the times of the Greek philosopher Plato (400 B.C.), the theory 
existed that in their movements the heavenly bodies made har- 
mony heard by the gods alone. " His " is again used for " its " 
in 82. 

62. still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins : ever singing 
together to the wide-eyed angels. " One of the most magical 
lines in Shakespeare," says Professor Withers. Changing a word 
of it, to make it a bit clearer, spoils it. For instance, it is impos- 
sible to put into words the beauty and imagery suggested by the 
poefs adjective " young-eyed." In " Othello " he has, " Patience, 
thou young and rose-lipped cherubin." Why do you prefer 
"young-eyed" ? cherubins. The word "cherub, 11 of Hebrew 
origin, has two plural forms, " cherubs " and the Hebrew " cheru- 
bim." The singular form, " cherubin," came into the language 
from the French, and occurs in the poets of Shakespeare's time 
oftener than does "cherub." (See note above on "still quir- 
ing. 11 ) 

63. Such harmony, etc. A harmony, similar to that of the 
moving stars, is in all of us, — immortal souls ; but so long as 
this flesh of ours (this " muddy vesture of decay ") is a clog and 
obstruction to our souls, we cannot hear it. Or briefer and more 
freely : Our souls, like the stars, are in perfect tune with God, 
but not until after death are we able to perceive that it is so. 

276 



Act V, Scene 1. Notes. 

Hallam calls this " the most sublime passage, perhaps, in Shake- 
speare." 

66. Diana : the moon, for in Greek mythology Artemis, or 
Diana, was the goddess of woodland sports, the chase, and the 
moon. (See line 109 below, and note.) 

71. wanton: playful, frolicsome. 

72. unhandled : unbroken. In the "Tempest" Ariel speaks 
similarly of "unbacked colts." 

73. Fetching: executing, making, — as in the expression 
"fetching a sigh." 

77. a mutual stand : a halt all together, as though by common 
agreement. 

80. Orpheus. A legendary hero and musician of Greece, the 
son of Apollo and Calliope, who was said to have invented the 
lyre. Besides the legend that he could move stones and trees 
with his music, the most famous story connected with him was 
his expedition to Hades, where, by playing on the lyre, he moved 
the gods of the lower world to release his lost bride, Eurydice. 
He was one of the heroes who accompanied Jason on the quest 
of the Golden Fleece. Shakespeare knew the story of Orpheus 
from his favorite Ovid. 

Orpheus with his lute made trees, 
And the mountain tops that freeze, 
Bow themselves when he did sing. 

— Henry VIII, III, 1,3. 

81. stockish : like a stock or stick of wood ;* lifeless. (Com- 
pare the expression "stock-still.") 

83. that hath no music in himself. Not the man who does 
not play some instrument or sing, but the man who has not the 
least bit of appreciation of music. 

84. concord : harmony. 

85. spoils : plundering, violence. 

86. The motions of his spirit : the impulses or workings of 
his mind are as black as night. 

87. affections dark as Erebus : feelings or emotions as dark as 
the lower-world. 

277 



Notes. Act V, Scene 1. 

91. So shine's a good deed. Who said, " Let your light so shine 
before men, that they may see your good works ?" naughty: 
evil, wicked. So earlier in play " thou naughty gaoler, 11 and 
''these naughty times. 11 Can you find these passages? 

95. state : dignity, station or position of rank. 

99. without respect : without regard to circumstances, by 
itself. 

103. attended: attended to, noticed with close attention. 

104-106. The nightingale, etc. "The nightingale, 11 Portia 
says, "is considered the most beautiful of songsters because it 
sings just when we enjoy sweet music most, and really the differ- 
ence between it and the wren is not in their songs, but in the 
hearers mind and feelings. 11 Do you agree with her? 

107. by season, seasoned are, etc. By being well-timed, things 
are often made to obtain the praise they deserve, and to show 
their true excellence. Notice the play on two meanings of 
" season. 11 

109. Endymion. A youthful and beautiful shepherd who was 
loved by the goddess Diana and conveyed by her to Mount 
Latmos in Caria where she threw him into a perpetual slumber, 
kissed by the rays of the moon. The story has been a favorite 
one with the poets of every age. The suggestion here seems to 
be that the moon is slowly setting, or sinking behind a cloud. 

112. cuckoo. A bird of no musical ability. The word is an 
attempt to imitate the note uttered by the male in the mating 
season. 

115. speed : prosper. 

121. tucket : a few notes, or a " flourish " on the trumpet. 

128. If you would walk, etc. " If you were to walk forth 
always at night, 11 says Bassanio, " it would always be day with us, 
even as it is now on the other side of the world. 11 The Antipodes 
(four syllables) are the regions, or peoples, opposite our feet, on 
the other side of the globe. 

129. Let me give light, etc. Bassanio has paid Portia the 
extravagant compliment of suggesting that she is as brilliant or- 
luminous as the sun. True to her own character and to the 

278 



Act V, Scene 1. Notes. 

spirit of this happy scene, she quickly turns the compliment into 
a pun on the word " light," which she neatly carries on into the 
next line. The second " light " = fickle, flighty, of loose moral 
character. Do you remember two other places earlier in the play 
where this same word has been similarly played upon ? 
132. God sort all : God dispose all things ! 

136. Sense : reason. 

137. bound for you. That is, by Shylock's bond, — thus 
playing on Bassanio's use of " bound " in its moral sense of 
" obliged," " indebted." One critic says of this speech : " Portia's 
play on bound is an admirable instance of the cleverness with 
which she manages to be grateful to Antonio without being 
formal or tiresome." 

138. acquitted of : rewarded for. 

141. scant this breathing courtesy : cut short this courtesy of 
words. In II, 9 the servant used the expression " courteous 
breath " for " courteous words " ; and in " Macbeth " the king 
speaks of " mouth-honor, breath." 

146. whose posy was, etc. Whose motto was just like the 
verses that cutlers engrave on their knife-blades. The custom 
of putting inscriptions, or mottoes, on the inner side of rings was 
very common until the close of the 17th century. A collection 
of these Love Posies, many hundred in number, has been printed 
from a manuscript which was written about 1596, — perhaps in the 
very year that our play was composed. " Cutlers' poetry " has 
come to be a synonym for poor, silly love-verses. 

154. respective : considerate, mindful, regardful. " You have 
too much respect upon the world." Who said this, and about 
whom was it spoken? 

160. scrubbed : stunted, undersized, scrubby. 

162. prating : talkative, chattering. 

170. leave it : part with it, — as in line 148. 

172. masters : contains, comprehends. 

174. An t'were to me, etc. If this had happened to me, I 
should be " simply furious " ! 

175. I were best. We should say " I had better." 

279 



Notes. Act V, Scene 1. 

187. void : empty. Do you remember the place where Shy- 
lock used this word as a verb? 

195. virtue : power, — as in the expressions " a medicine of 
great virtue" " the magnet has lost its virtue" 

197. contain : keep, retain. 

195-198. the ring. " The repetition of ring in these lines, 
with everybody, spectators included, party to the joke (except 
the lovers and Antonio) gives a touch of farce and jollity to a 
situation that must not even hint at tragic danger." (F. B. 
Gummere.) 

201. wanted. That is, " as to have wanted or lacked." 

201-202. the modesty to urge, etc. : the modesty to insist 
upon a thing held as sacred. 

206. a civil doctor : a Doctor of Civil Law. 

212. enforced. As a gentleman, Bassanio was morally obliged 
to send the ring to the Doctor. 

213. shame and courtesy. That is, with shame not to seem 
ungrateful, and with desire to show my gratitude. 

216. candles of the night. In " Romeo and Juliet " and in 
" Macbeth " Shakespeare speaks of the stars as candles : 
" Night's candles are burnt out." 

224. well advised : very prudent, cautious. 

235. double. The word suggests something bad, — duplicity, 
double-dealing. 

239. wealth : welfare, benefit, — as in our word " common- 
wealth," which really" means "the good that men have in 
common." 

240. which. This refers back, of course, to the loan which 
Antonio made of his body, — the pound of flesh. 

241. miscarried : gone wrong, been lost. Where did Antonio 
say, " My ships have all miscarried" ? 

243. advisedly : deliberately. 

244. surety: bail, guarantor, sponsor. Do you remember 
where Portia said, " The Frenchman became his surety •"? 

259. richly: richly laden. Compare the words of Bassanio, 
"In Belmont is a lady richly left." 

28o 



Act V, Scene 1. Notes. 

263. living: means of livelihood, property, — as in Portia's 
wish that for Bassanio's sake she might " in virtues, beauties, 
livings, friends, exceed account. 11 (Ill, 2, 158.) How had 
Portia given Antonio " life," as well as " living " ? 

265. road : harbor. When did Salanio speak of " peering in 
maps for ports and piers and roads " ? 

271. manna. According to the story told in the book of 
Exodus, the Israelites, when fleeing from Egypt, were kept from 
starving in the wilderness by a divinely supplied food that fell 
from the heavens like rain. " They called the name thereof 
Manna ; and it was like coriander seed, white ; and the taste of 
it was like wafers made with honey." (Ex. xvi. 31.) 

275. inter' gatories. A shortened form of " interrogatories " = 
questions. The expression " charged upon interrogatories " was 
a legal term of the Elizabethan courts. Once more before the 
play closes Portia reminds us of the lawyer's part she played 
by using legal language when she says, " Come, let's go in, and 
there we'll promise to answer all your questions." 

277. fear: be anxious about, worry about. Compare this use 
of the word with Launcelot's remark to Jessica, " Therefore, I 
promise you, I fear you." (Ill, 5, 3.) 

278. sore : exceedingly, much. 



QUESTIONS AND TOPICS FOR DISCUSSION 

1. What is there especially beautiful about the scene in the 
garden ? Describe it as you see it. 

2. How does this scene differ, in spirit as well as in setting, 
from the rest of the play ? 

3. Do the references to Cressida, Thisbe, Dido, and Medea 
seem natural and appropriate? Would they be understood and 
appreciated as much to-day as by the audiences of Shakespeare's 
age? 

4. Why do you think Launcelot is introduced once again 
before the play closes? 

28t 



Notes. Act V, Scene 1. 

5. What does Lorenzo mean when he says : 

" Soft stillness and the night 
Become the touches of sweet harmony " ? 

Do you agree with him ? Give other illustrations. 

6. Do you agree with Lorenzo that "the man that hath no 
music in himself " cannot be trusted? Defend your answer. 

7. What will you say of the fact that Dr. Johnson, Sir Walter 
Scott, and other great men "never could distinguish one tune 
from another " ? 

8. Do you think that the sentiments expressed here about 
music are intended to be merely Lorenzo's feelings, or are they 
Shakespeare's as well? Expand upon this subject, by pointing 
out when and where in the play you think the dramatist is 
speaking to us through his characters. 

9. What reasons can you see for having Nerissa, rather than 
Portia, first discover the absence of her husband's ring ? 

10. Does it heighten the amusement of the ring episode to 
have us in the audience know the true facts, or would it be better 
to have us as much in the dark as are Bassanio and Gratiano ? 

11. Just when did the story of the rings begin ? What im- 
portant part of the plot do they bring to a happy conclusion? 

12. Describe the scene and the facial expressions of the 
various characters when Bassanio exclaims, " By heaven, it is 
the same I gave the Doctor ! " 

13. Can you explain how it is that Portia knows of the mer- 
chant's argosies having " richly come to harbor " when Antonio 
himself is ignorant of their return? Do you think there is any 
reason for her unwillingness to tell " by what strange accident " 
she heard this good news? 

14. Why does Shakespeare, in your opinion, introduce the 
subject of Antonio's ships again? Have we not lost interest in 
them? 

15. Does the play end to your satisfaction? Can you suggest 
a different ending that would please you more ? 

16. As you now look back, do you think the play ought to 

282 



Act V, Scene 1. Notes. 

have been concluded with the defeat of Shylock? Why did the 
poet generally end his plays with a quiet, calmer scene after the 
excitement of the climax? Is this the modern fashion? 

17. What other scenes besides this one are written wholly in 
verse form? Why do you think prose would be unsuitable here? 
(Compare this scene with III, i in construction and form. Why 
did the poet choose prose for one and verse for the other?) 

18. " When Portia invites her company to enter her palace to 
refresh themselves after their travels, and talk over l these events 
at full, 1 the imagination, unwilling to lose sight of the brilliant 
group, follows them in gay procession from the lovely moonlit 
garden to marble halls and princely revels, to splendor and fes- 
tive mirth, to love and happiness." (Mrs. Jameson.) 

Do you prefer thus to follow them in imagination, or would 
you rather have Portia "answer all things faithfully" in the gar- 
den for our benefit? Why does the dramatist leave questions 
and explanations to our imagination? 

19. What lines of this scene have you ever heard before? 
Quote three passages that you especially like, and give reasons 
for your choice. 

20. " Here is pure romance," says Professor Gummere, "com- 
edy as Shakespeare understood it, . . . to make us forget the 
tempest of threatened tragedy." Explain this comment on 
Act V. Do you agree with it? 



283 



SUBJECTS FOR ORAL AND WRITTEN COMPOSITIONS 

[Other subjects for discussion and written exercises will be found 
at the end of the notes on each scene. Subjects starred (*) are taken 
from college entrance examinations of recent years.] 

1. The Story of the Three Caskets.* 

[Tell in your own words the story of the winning of Portia. This 
can be made interesting by having Portia tell the story in the first per- 
son, either to a friend after her marriage, or in the form of a journal.] 

2. The Story of the Pound of Flesh.* 

[Put the story, as related by Shakespeare, into your own words. It 
may be well to have it told by Bassanio to Portia, or by Antonio to the 
Duke.] 

3. The Blending of the Two Stories in " The Merchant 
of Venice."* 

[Point out how Shakespeare has woven the stories of the caskets 
and the pound of flesh together. How are the characters of one 
connected with those of the other? Do you think the plot is skilfully 
made?] 

4. The Relation of Act V to the Rest of the Play. 

[Explain the purpose of the last act, and show how it grows out of 
what has gone before. Give your reasons for the poet's adding this 
act, and not ending the play with the court-room scene.] 

5. The Feeling toward Jews in Shakespeare's Time. 

[From what Antonio, Bassanio, Gratiano, and others in the play say 
of Shylock, show that the Jews were hated and despised then because 
of their money-lending (usury) and their religion. See also page 103 
"The Case of Dr. Lopez." 

6. Shakespeare's Treatment of Shylock* 

[Do you think Shakespeare wants us to sympathize with Shylock at 
all? Why do we generally feel sorry for him on the stage to-day? 
Quote passages in support of your opinions.] 

284 



Subjects for Compositions. 

7. The Elements of Shylock's Character.* 

[Point out the places and the ways in which Shylock shows his 
greed, his cruelty, his hatred, his passion for revenge. What good 
qualities do you find in him?] 

8. Antonio and Shylock. 

[Explain the relations between these two men at the opening of the 
play, and write a defence of Shylock's feelings and actions based upon 
I, 3, 95" 120 -] 

9. Antonio as a Christian Gentleman To-day.* 

[Point out in what ways Antonio falls short of our standards of a 
gentleman. Do you think he can be defended on the ground of our 
different ideals to-day?] 

10. The Melancholy Antonio. 

[Follow his sadness from the opening lines throughout the play. 
What is the effect of this melancholy upon the whole drama? Do 
you think it gives a darker color to Shylock's cruelty? How?] 

11. The Story of Antonio's Trial. 

[Make this life-like and personal by having the story told by a 
spectator in the court; by Gratiano to Lorenzo; by Nerissa to Jessica; 
or by Shylock to Tubal. Try to keep the point of view and the spirit 
of the one who tells the story.] 

12. Portia's Part in the Trial* 

[An account of Portia's actions and words while in the court room.] 

13. Portia's Victory over Shylock.* 

[Give your own opinion of her arguments. Were they her own, or 
furnished her by Dr. Bellario? Do you think she is perfectly fair to 
Shylock?] 

14. The Excitement of the Trial Scene. 

[Show how hope and fear fluctuate in the hearts of Shylock, Bas- 
sanio, Antonio, and the spectators throughout the trial. Explain the 
effect of these ever-changing emotions.] 

285 



Subjects for Compositions. 

15. Portia's Suitors.* 

[Give an account of them, telling who they are, whence they come, 
and what you think of them.] 

16. Morocco and Arragon.* 

[A comparison of their actions, words, and reasoning over the cas- 
kets. Which do you like the better? Why do they both fail?] 

17. Bassanio's Choice. 

[Give in your own words Bassanio's arguments for the three cas- 
kets. Compare his reasoning with Morocco's and Arragon's.] 

18. The Story of Launcelot. • 

[Tell the story of Launcelot, from the discussion between his con- 
science and the Devil, to his last appearance in Act V.] 

19. The Purpose of Launcelot in the Play.* 

[Explain how Launcelot, besides being the clown, serves other pur- 
poses. Why would you not omit his part under any consideration?] 

20. A Character Sketch of Gratiano. 

[Remember what Bassanio says of him in I, I, 1 14-120. Why do 
you like him? Compare him with Antonio on the one hand, and 
with Launcelot on the other.] 

21. The Elopement of Jessica.* 

.[It may be interesting to have Gratiano tell the story of this event 
to Nerissa at Belmont, or Jessica herself may write it in a letter to a 
friend.] 

22. What I Think of Jessica. 

[Give your own opinion of Jessica's character. Do you defend her 
for deceiving her father, stealing his money, and becoming a Chris-, 
tian? Were her actions looked upon differently in Shakespeare's 
time ?] 

23. Why I Like Portia. 

[Try to point out just what it is in Portia that makes her so interest- 
ing, so charming, and so lovable.] 

286 



Subjects for Compositions. 

24. The Minor Characters of the Play.* 

[What parts do Nerissa, Lorenzo, Old Gobbo, the Duke, etc., fill in 
the play? Show how, though minor characters, they stand out clearly 
with distinct individualities, and are necessary to the plot.] 

25. The Most Interesting Person in the Play. 

[Support your choice with reasons of your own, and if possible with 
quotations.] 

26. Shakespeare's Skill in Character Drawing.* 

[How does Shakespeare, in your opinion, make such clear pictures 
of his characters ? Quote passages and scenes that especially reveal 
the true nature of Shylock, Antonio, Portia, Bassanio, etc.] 

27. The Inscriptions on the Caskets.* 

[What does each mean to you ? Do you think they are skilfully 
worded ? Deceptive or suggestive? Compare them with the inscrip- 
tions in the story which Shakespeare used for the foundation of his 
play. See page ioo.] 

28. The Scrolls in the Caskets. 

[Tell how and by whom each was found, and compare their 
meanings.] 

29. a. Shylock and Isaac of York.* 

b. Jessica and Rebecca. * 

c. Launcelot and Wamba. # 

[Those who have read Scott's " Ivanhoe " will find it interesting and 
profitable to compare and contrast these characters. Remember that 
" The Merchant of Venice " was written in 1597 ; " Ivanhoe " in 1819. 
The scene of the novel, however, is much earlier than that of the play.] 

30. The Ending of the Play. 

[Explain how the conclusion is perfectly satisfactory to you, or give 
definite suggestions for a different ending. What, for instance, would 
you add? Or would you omit a part of Act V ?] 

287 



Subjects for Compositions. 

31. The Less Important Scenes of the Play.* 

[Imagine yourself a stage manager, and decide what scenes you 
would omit in your presentation of the play to-day. Give your 
reasons.] 

32. My Favorite Passages in "The Merchant of 
Venice." 

[Quote several and explain your choice.] 

33. The Title of the Play.* 

[Discuss "The Merchant of Venice" as a title. Suggest others, 
such as "The Jew of Venice," and consider the merits of each.] 

34. The Merchant of Venice : Comedy or Tragedy.* 

[Is it right to class this play with Shakespeare's comedies? In what 
ways do you think it is less a comedy now than in 1597 ?] 

35. Prose and Verse in the Play. 

[Quote passages of both types ; note the circumstances and charac- 
ter of each; state what principles you draw from these about Shake- 
speare's use of prose and verse forms.] 

36. References to the Bible in " The Merchant." 

[Make a collection of all references to the Bible in the play. What 
conclusions do you draw about Shakespeare's knowledge and use of 
the Scriptures?] 

37. References to Mythology in " The Merchant." 

[Treat this subject similarly to No. 36.] 

38. Shakespeare's Feeling for Music. 

[Explain Lorenzo's words about music in Act V. What do they 
show about Shakespeare? Do you agree with their sentiment?] 

39. The Duration of the Play. 

[Try to account for the time which the play occupies. What diffi- 
culties do you meet, and how do you explain them ? This subject is 

288 



Subjects for Compositions. 



considered at the beginning of the notes on each scene, and more 
fully on page 106.] 

40. Lessons One Learns from " The Merchant of 

Venice." * 

[If Shakespeare had any purpose in writing the play, state what 
you think it is. What lessons does one learn from the incidents con- 
nected with Antonio ? Shylock ? Portia ? Bassanio ?] 

IMAGINATIVE SUBJECTS 

The following subjects call for imagination and originality as well 
as knowledge of the play itself. Many of them may be told in the 
first person in the form of a letter or journal. Some may well be 
written in dialogue, or as a one-act short play, which then may be 
presented by members of the class. In all of them, start with the 
facts and suggestions given you by Shakespeare. Then use your 
imagination freely, though what you imagine should always be possi- 
ble and the more probable the better. 

41. Other Causes of Antonio's Sadness. 

[Name the causes given by his friends in Act I, discuss them, and 
add others of your own.] 

42. The Early Life of Bassanio. 

[Something about Bassanio before the play, especially the story of 
his "disabling his estate" and borrowing from his friend. See I, I, 
121-129.] 

43. The Death of Portia's Father. 

[" Your father was ever virtuous ; and holy men at their death have 
good inspirations." The story of Portia's father and his plan for his 
daughter's marriage can be told in dialogue between Portia and 
Bassanio.] 

44. A Day with Portia and Nerissa. 

[This may be either before the play opens, or after their marriage 
when they visit each other. ] 

289 



Subjects for Compositions. 

45. An Evening with Portia's Suitors. 

[You have the names and characters of the suitors given you in I, 2. 
Write a one-act play, laying the scene at Belmont the evening before 
their departure.] 

46. Launcelot's First Interview with Shylock. 

[This dialogue will give you a splendid opportunity to imitate Laun- 
celot's blundering and old Shylock's stern severity.] 

47. Old Gobbo goes to Venice. 

[The story of Gobbo's journey to visit his son, the " dish of doves," 
etc. A very pretty little scene, once written by a high-school student, 
described Launcelot's home in the country, old Gobbo's talk with 
Marjory, his wife, about their son, and the father's departure for 
Venice.] 

48. Shylock dines with Antonio and Bassanio. 

[Read Shylock's words to Jessica, II, 5, 11-19, and then give an 
account of the banquet, the conversation, and the departure of Shy- 
lock. This also may well be done in dramatic form.] 

49. Jessica's Home Life. 

[" Our house is hell, and thou, a merry devil, 
Didst rob it of some taste of tediousness." 
Give us a glimpse of Shylock's home that will support Jessica's 
strong language.] 

50. Shylock discovers His Daughter's Flight. 

[This may well include his return to his house after dining with 
Bassanio, and also the discovery that his money and jewels have been 
stolen. See page 228 for Sir Henry Irving's method of acting this 
scene.] 

51. Shylock interviews Tubal. 

[A dialogue in which Shylock will do most of the talking, like 
III, 1, 72-116. Imitate the style of that scene, giving Shylock's direc- 
tions to Tubal for finding his daughter.] 

29O 



Subjects for Compositions. 

52. Morocco after His Departure from Belmont. 

[" Portia, adieu. I have too grieved a heart 
To take a tedious leave : thus losers part." 
From these words, and from what you know of the prince's charac- 
ter, write a sketch of his life after leaving Belmont. ] 

53. Helping Lorenzo Plan for the Masque. 

[This may be told by Salarino to Antonio, or by Lorenzo to Jessica 
in the garden at Belmont.] 

54. Lorenzo and Jessica at Genoa. 

[" Your daughter spent in Genoa, as I heard, in one night fourscore 
ducats."] 

55. Shylock's Turquoise Ring. 

[" Thou torturest me, Tubal : it was my turquoise ; I had it of Leah 
when I was a bachelor : I would not have given it for a wilderness of 
monkeys." Some can tell the story of this precious ring up to the 
moment it was given away by Jessica for a monkey; others can tell of 
its subsequent adventures. Did it, for instance, ever get into Shy- 
lock's possession again ? The turquoise may tell this as an auto- 
biography.] 

56. Jessica's Monkey. 

[The story of her strange purchase and what became of it.] 

57. The Signing of the Bond. 

[" Meet me forthwith at the notary's; 
Give him direction for this merry bond, 
And I will go and purse the ducats straight."] 

58. Bassanio spends His Borrowed Ducats. 

[Gratiano tells Nerissa of the purchasing of presents and clothes, 
hiring retainers, equipment, etc.] 

59. The Departure of Bassanio for Belmont. 

[Read again II, 8, 35-49, and then describe the scene with further 
details of your own.] 

29I 



Subjects for Compositions. 

60. Bassanio's Arrival at Belmont. 

[Tell the story of Bassanio's arrival with Gratiano and his train, and 
the reception given them by Portia. Contrast this with the arrival of 
Morocco and Arragon as told in the play.] 

61. Portia's Girlhood. 

[Read again III, 2, 159-165, and then give a sketch of Portia's life 
up to the time she is won by Bassanio. Look up Mrs. Cowden 
Clarke's "Girlhood of Shakespeare's Heroines."] 

62. Portia's Song. 

[The story of the song, "Tell me where is Fancy bred"; what it 
suggests ; how Portia happened to have it handy ; how Bassanio lis- 
tened to it, etc.] 

63. Bassanio chooses the Golden Casket. 

[Imagine what would have happened had Bassanio failed in his 
choice.] 

64. Salerio's News. 

[Read III, 2, 230-239, and then write an account of what has hap- 
pened in Venice since Bassanio left.] 

65. Balthazar's Interview with Dr. Bellario. 

[This may well be written in dialogue form. See III, 2, 45—55.] 

66. The Journey of Portia and Nerissa to Venice. 

[Their conversation, plans, meeting with Balthazar at the tranect, 
etc.] 

67. The Court Room in Venice. 

[Describe the scene of the trial, as you imagine it, giving exact 
positions of the various characters, as though you were a stage-director.] 

68. Portia's Arguments Answered. 

[Put into Shylock's mouth your own answers to Portia's quibble 
about the blood and the exact pound of flesh.] 

292 



Subjects for Compositions. 

69. Shylock takes His Pound of Flesh. 

[In IV, I, 329, Portia says to Shylock, "Why doth the Jew pause? 
take thy forfeiture." Imagine the scene and actions of those present, 
including Portia, had Shylock, driven to desperation, rushed upon 
Antonio to do as she commanded.] 

70. Shylock returns from the Trial. 

[" I am not well : send the deed after me, 
And I will sign it." 
Picture for us the return to his house and the signing of the deed.] 

71. Nerissa gets Gratiano's Ring. 

[Read again IV, 2, 13-20. Write this in dialogue form like a scene 
in the play.] . 

72. The Return of Antonio's Ships. 

[Explain the earlier report of their loss, and tell how Portia found 
out about their safe arrival in port.] 

73. Portia and Nerissa Explain. 

[" Let us go in . . . 
And we will answer all things faithfully." 

The scene of this explanation may be at Portia's dinner-table the 
next day. Make it dramatic, and do not have Portia do all the talking.] 

74. Shylock after the Trial. 

[Did he really become a Christian? Did he forgive Jessica? How 
did he live? Did he seek revenge? This offers a splendid field for 
the imagination.] 

75. Shylock's Revenge. 

[Imagine some plausible way in which Shylock was revenged for 
his wrongs.] 

76. A Visit to Belmont Ten Years After. 



293 



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This selection includes the essays on Lord Clive, Warren Hastings, 
and both the essays on the Earl of Chatham. The text in each 
case is given entire. A map of India, giving the location of places 
named in the essays, is included and there is also a portrait of 
Macaulay. 

MACAULAY. Edited by Samuel Thurber 
Essay on Addison Essay on Johnson 

Essay on Lord Clive Essay on Milton 

Price, each 25 cents. 

Essays on Milton and Addison Essay on Chatham 

One volume. Price, 35 cents. Price, 20 cents. 

4 



The Academy Classics 



MACAULAY. Essay on Warren Hastings 

Edited by Joseph V. Denney. Price, 40 cents. 

This edition will be found especially useful to pupils in composition 
who are studying Macaulay for structure. The essay affords con- 
spicuously excellent illustrations of all four forms of discourse, — 
narration, description, exposition, and argumentation. The book 
has a sketch of Macaulay's life, a bibliography, and also a map of 
India and a portrait of Macaulay. 

MILTON. Minor Poems 

Edited by Samuel Thurber. Price, 30 cents. 

L'Allegro ; II Penseroso ; Com us ; Lycidas ; Arcades ; On the 
Nativity; On Shakespeare; At a Solemn Music; Sonnets. The 
edition has an introduction, notes, and a portrait of Milton. 

Paradise Lost, Books I and II 

Edited by Henry W. BOYNTON. Price 30 cents. 

This edition has the first two books of Paradise Lost complete and 
a resume of the rest of the epic, with quotations of notable passages. 
The introduction has two plans and a description of the Miltonic 
universe. The frontispiece of this edition is a reproduction of 
Munkacsy's painting of the blind Milton dictating Paradise Lost to 
his daughters. 

POPE. The Rape of the Lock 

Edited by L. D. Syle. (In Four English Poems. Price, 25 cents.) 

An Essay on Criticism 

Edited by GEORGE A. WATROUS. (In Selected Poems. Price, 30 cents.) 

SCOTT. Ivanhoe 

Edited by A. Marion Merrill. Price, 65 cents. 

This edition is unusually complete both in introductory matter and 
in notes. It is printed on bible paper to make it uniform in size 
with the other volumes of the Academy Classics. The book is 
illustrated from original drawings. 

The Lady of the Lake 

Edited by G. B. AiTON. Price, 30 cents. 

In addition to the introduction and notes, this edition contains a 
map of the Trosachs and vicinity and a portrait of Scott. 

Marmion 

Edited by Mary E. ADAMS. Price, 30 cents. 

This edition contains an introduction, notes, a glossary, a map of 
the Marmion country, and a portrait of Scott. 

5 



The Academy Classics 



SHAKESPEARE. Merchant of Venice. New Edition. 
Edited by Samuel Thurber, Jr. Price, 45 cents. 

The new edition is illustrated by handsome half-tones, showing 
the principal characters and incidents. The book contains the 
following features which will aid and interest the young pupil : — 
very full notes ; an account of Shakespeare the man — his life, and 
a description of the theatre for which he wrote ; glimpses of life in 
Shakespeare's time as shown by the play ; a study of the structural 
elements of the comedy ; a discussion of the sources and histori- 
cal setting ; a list of familiar quotations ; and a list of topics for 
written compositions. 

Julius Caesar. New Edition. At Press. 
Macbeth. New Edition. At Press. 

The new editions of Julius Caesar and Macbeth have the same 

features as the Merchant of Venice. 

SHAKESPEARE. Edited by Samuel Thurber. 
As You Like It Julius Caesar Macbeth The Tempest 

Price, each 30 cents. 
Hamlet (with Pearson's Questions on Hamlet?) 

Price, 35 cents. 

These edilions contain introductory matter and notes. The text 
is that of the Globe edition, and omissions have been made only 
where necessary for classroom use. 

STEVENSON. Treasure Island 

Edited by W. D. LEWIS. Price, 45 cents. 

This edition has a short introduction and a life of Stevenson. 
Very few notes are provided. A complete gtossary explains all 
the unusual terms used in the story. 
The book contains illustrations from original drawings and a map. 

TENNYSON. Enoch Arden 

Edited by G. A. WATROUS. (In Three Narrative Poems. Price, 
30 cents.) 

Idylls of the King 

Edited by H. W. BOYNTON. Price, 30 cents. 

This edition contains The Coming of Arthur, Gareth and Lynette, 
Lancelot and Elaine, The Holy Grail, The Passing of Arthur. 
Thus it has all the Selections of the College Entrance Requirements 
both for reading and for study. There is a portrait of the author. 

6. 



The Academy Classics 



WEBSTER. Reply to Hayne 

Edited by C. B. BRADLEY. Price, 25 cents. 

This edition contains a brief life of Webster and an account of the 
circumstances under which the speech was delivered. There is a 
portrait of Webster. 



Four English Poems 

Edited by L. D. SYLE. Ppce, 25 cents. 

The Rape of the Lock, John Gilpin's Ride, The Prisoner of 
Chillon, and Rugby Chapel. This edition has an introduction, 
notes, and a portrait of Lord Byron. 

Selected Poems from Pope, Gray, and Goldsmith 

Edited by George A. Watrous. Price, 30 cents. 

The poems included are Pope's Essay on Criticism, Grays Elegy 
and Progress of Poesy, and Goldsmith's Traveller and Deserted 
Village. The book has an introduction, notes, and a portrait of 
Pope. 

Three Narrative Poems 

Edited by George A. Watrous. Price, 30 cents. 

This volume contains The Ancient Mariner, Sohrab and Rustum, 
and Enoch Arden. A map makes plain the geography of Sohrab 
and Rustum. 

Two of the selections in this book — The Ancient Mariner and 
Sohrab and Rustum — appear in the College Entrance Require- 
ments in English. There is a portrait of Coleridge. 

The Short-Story 

Edited by W. Patterson Atkinson. Price, 60 cents. 

The selections are Washington Irving's Rip Van Winkle, Edgar 
Allan Poe's The Gold Bug and The Purloined Letter, Nathaniel 
Hawthorne's Howe's Masquerade and The Birthmark, Francis 
Bret Harte's The Outcasts of Poker Flat, Robert Louis Stevenson's 
The Sire de Maletroit's Door and Markheim, Rudyard Kipling's 
Wee Willie Winkie. 

In addition to the well-chosen selection of stories, the book contains 
a practical Introduction, setting forth the development of the short- 
story in its various forms. There is also a study of the short-story 
as an example of narrative writing, which makes the book of 
practical use to classes in English composition. Helpful notes on 
each of the stories are included. The Short-Story is illustrated 
with portraits of the authors represented. 

7 



ENGLISH 

Paragraph- Writing 

By F. N. Scott, Professor of Rhetoric in the University of Michigan, 
and J. V. DENNEY, Professor of English in Ohio State University. 
Revised edition. i2mo, cloth, 480 pages. Price, $1.25. 

FOR this new edition the book has been entirely rewritten and 
much enlarged. The fundamental idea of the book is, as 
before, to treat the paragraph as the unit of composition ; in 
adapting the work, however, to the present needs of college and 
university classes many modifications in general plan and in 
detail have been made. Among these changes may be men- 
tioned the following : — 

The book has been enlarged so as to include the various types 
of composition — that is, Description, Narration, Exposition, and 
Argument. These are treated at length and with a thoroughness 
corresponding to their present importance in college work. 

The exercises for individual work have been removed from the 
text and placed in a division by themselves. This arrangement 
lends continuity to the text and at the same time gives space for 
a greatly extended series of progressive exercises offering a wide 
choice to instructor and student. 

The illustrative matter of the preceding edition, through long 
use somewhat familiar to both teacher and student, has been 
replaced by fresh and worthy material from a great variety of 
sources. In amount this material has been more than doubled. 

American Literature with Readings 

By Roy Bennett Pace, Assistant Professor of English in Swarthmore 
College, Swarthmore, Pennsylvania. i2mo, cloth, 671 pages. Price, 

#i-35- 

THIS book is the author's American Literature and Readings 
in American Literature bound together in one volume. 
With it in the hands of the pupil, teachers are able to carry out? 
at no great expense, the author's plan of studying the various 
writers with their works in accessible form. 

4 



ENGLISH 



American Literature 

By Professor Roy Bennett Pace, of Swarthmore College, Swarth- 
more, Pennsylvania. i2mo, cloth, 289 pages. Price $1.00. 

THIS book is the outcome of personal experience with the 
problem of teaching literature to young people. 

No writer is treated unless the student may reasonably be ex- 
pected to read some of his work. The author avoids the long 
list of names and dates common to manuals of literature. 

No effort has been made to treat very recent writers. It is felt 
that judgment cannot yet be passed on their work and that the 
pupil will already have become familiar with many of them 
through the magazines. 

The author nowhere sacrifices simplicity in an effort at literary 
effect. Too often in text-books in literature, a good chapter is 
spoiled by a few flights of fancy or a clever analogy quite beyond 
the student's observation and experience. 

Southern literature is given more space than is usual in man- 
uals of this sort. 

No pains have been spared to equip the book with useful and 
practical illustrations. Homes and haunts of authors, manu- 
scripts and title-pages, portraits and monuments, are the subjects 
of attractive pictures. 

Readings in American Literature 

By Professor Roy Bennett Pace, of Swarthmore College, Swarth- 
more, Pennsylvania. i2mo, cloth, 373 pages. Price, $1.00. 

ALTHOUGH this book is intended as a companion to the 
author's own American Literature, it will be found useful in 
connection with any of the other text-books in the subject. 

The best-known authors in American literature are represented, 
and an effort has been made to give some of the best and most 
distinctive work of each. 

A feature of the Readings is the prominence given to early 
American writers. This literature is quaint and interesting and 
at the same time affords an excellent model of good English. 



ENGLISH 



From Milton to Tennyson 

Masterpieces of English Poetry. Edited by L. Du PONT SYLE, late 
Associate Professor of English Literature in the University of California. 
i2mo, cloth, 480 pages. Price, $1.00. 

IN this work the editor has endeavored to bring together within 
the compass of a moderate-sized volume as much narrative, 
descriptive, and lyric verse as a student may reasonably be re- 
quired to read critically for entrance to college. From the nine- 
teen poets represented, only such masterpieces have been selected 
as are within the range of the understanding and the sympathy of 
the high school student. Each masterpiece is given complete, 
except for pedagogical reasons in the cases of Thomson, Cowper, 
Byron, and Browning. Exigencies of space have compelled the 
editor reluctantly to omit Scott from this volume. The copy- 
right laws, of course, exclude American poets from the scope of 
this work. 

The following poets are represented : — 



Milton . 
Dryden . 
Pope . . 
Thomson 
Johnson . 
Gray . . 
Goldsmith 
Cowper . 
Burns . . 

Coleridge 
Byron . . 

Keats . . . 

Shelley . 

Wordsworth. 



Macaulay 
Clough . 

Arnold . 
Browning 
Tennyson 



L' Allegro, II Penseroso, Lycidas, and a Selection from the Sonnets, 

Epistle to Congreve, Alexander's Feast, Character of a Good Parson. 

Epistles to Mr. Jervas, to Lord Burlington, and to Augustus. 

Winter. 

Vanity of Human Wishes. 

Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard, and The Bard. 

Deserted Village. 

Winter Morning Walk. 

Cotter's Saturday Night, Tam O'Shanter, and a Selection from the 

Songs. 
Ancient Mariner. 
Isles of Greece, and Selections from Childe Harold, Manfred, and 

the Hebrew Melodies. 
Eve of St. Agnes, Ode to a Nightingale, Sonnet on Chapman's 

Homer. 
Euganean Hills, The Cloud, The Skylark, and the Two Sonnets 

on the Nile. 
Laodamia, The Highland Girl, Tintern Abbey, The Cuckoo, The 

Ode to a Skylark, The Milton Sonnet, The Ode to Duty, and the 

Ode on the Intimations of Immortality. 
Horatius. 
Two Ships, the Prologue to the Mari Magno, and the Lawyer's 

First Tale. 
The Scholar-Gypsy and The Forsaken Merman. 
Transcript from Euripides (Balaustion's Adventure). 
OZnone, Morte D'Arthur, The Miller's Daughter, and a Selection 

from the Songs. 

G 



ENGLISH 

Orations and Arguments 

Edited by C. B. Bradley, Professor of Rhetoric in the University of 
California. i2mo, cloth, 385 pages. Price, $1.00. 

The following speeches are contained in the book : — 

Burke: Webster: 

On Conciliation with the Col- The Reply to Hayne. 
onies, and Speech before the MACAULAY 

Flectors at Bristol. On the Reform Bill of 1832. 

Chatham : Calhoun : 

On American Affairs. On the Slavery Question. 

Erskine : Seward : 

In the Stockdale Case. On the Irrepressible Conflict. 
Lincoln : 

The Gettysburg Address. 

IN making this selection, the test applied to each speech was 
that it should be in itself memorable, attaining its distinction 
through the essential qualities of nobility and force of ideas, and 
that it should be, in topic, so related to the great thoughts, 
memories, or problems of our own time as to have for us still an 
inherent and vital interest. 

The Notes aim to furnish the reader with whatever help is 
necessary to the proper appreciation of the speeches ; to avoid 
bewildering him with mere subtleties and display of erudition ; 
and to encourage in him habits of self-help and familiarity with 
sources of information. 

Note-taking 

By S, S. Seward, Jr., Assistant Professor of English in the Leland 
Stanford Junior University. i2mo, flexible cloth, 91 pages. Price, 
50 cents. 

THIS book is the result of a number of years' experience in 
training students to take notes intelligently and systemati- 
cally, and has been written with the conviction that a better 
standard of note-taking will add much to the effectiveness of the 
students 1 work. 

It contains chapters on The Aim in Note-taking, How to Con- 
dense Notes, How to Organize Notes, Special Problems in Note- 
taking, together with exercises for practice and many examples, 

7 



ENGLISH 

Public Speaking : A Treatise on Delivery with Se- 
lections for Declaiming 

By Edwin D. Shurter, Associate Professor of Oratory in the Uni- 
versity of Texas. i2mo, cloth, 265 pages. Price, 90 cents. 

THIS book treats chiefly of persuasive speaking, and the au- 
thor lays stress on the fact that mental qualities, such as 
clearness, simplicity, vivacity, spontaneity, and sincerity, are of 
chief value in declamation. Although this principle is counted 
fundamental, the book has all the necessary rules and principles 
for the technique of public speaking, with exercises for perfecting 
the voice and for overcoming defects of speech. Gesture is treated 
in a very happy way, as the physical expression of earnestness. 
The chapters are : — 

I. The Nature and Basis of VII. Time : Phrasing, Transition. 

Public Speaking. VIII. Force, Climax, Volume. 

II. The Voice. IX. Tone-Color. 

III. Pronunciation and Enuncia- X. Earnestness. 

tion. XI. Physical Earnestness — 

IV. Key. Gesture. 

V. Emphasis. XII. General Suggestions. 

VI. Inflection. XIII. Selections for Practice. 

The Selections for Practice include speeches from Lincoln, 
Roosevelt, Blaine, Grady, John Hay, Woodrow Wilson, Wendell 
Phillips, Henry Watterson, and many others. 

A Drill Book in English 

Compiled by George E. Gay, Haverhill, Mass. i2mo, cloth, 108 
pages. Price, 45 cents. 

THIS manual will appeal only to teachers who believe that there 
is value in presenting to the pupils specimens of bad English 
for correction. It contains in brief form rules for spelling, punc- 
tuation, capitalization, and the most important principles of gram- 
mar and rhetoric. Abundant exercises for practice are given. 

8 



ENGLISH 



Practical High School Speller 

By Tobias O. Chew, Superintendent of City Schools, Washburn, 
Wisconsin. i2mo, cloth, 102 pages. Price, 40 cents. 

THIS book contains the words most often misspelled by high 
school pupils — a list of two thousand, determined by corre- 
spondence with ten thousand teachers in representative secondary 
schools in every state in the United States. The first word in 
Lesson I was sent in by seven hundred high school teachers ; the 
other words show by their order the frequency with which they 
were suggested by teachers. The book, then, is built on the 
judgment of those best qualified to know — the teachers them- 
selves. 

A most useful feature of the Speller is the arrangement of the 
words so as to make it easy for the pupils to learn to spell them. 
Each lesson has twenty-five words, printed in script in a neat 
column, so that the pupil readily visualizes them. Often Spellers 
contain a large amount of interesting information about a word, 
but the word itself appears either divided into syllables or so 
placed on the page that the pupil gets no adequate picture of 
how it looks, either written or printed. 

Beside the words in script, the Speller has them in print, divided 
into syllables, with the accents, and followed by brief phrases 
which illustrate their proper use. A few practical rules for spell- 
ing are included. 

The Literature Note-Book 

By Professor F. N. SCOTT, of the University of Michigan, and F. E. 
Bryant, of the University of Kansas. Price, each, 6 cents ; per 
dozen, 60 cents ; per hundred, $5.00. 

^T~HIS is a blank-book for book reviews and reports on home 
i reading. On the front cover are seventeen numbered ques- 
tions, each suggesting a possible treatment for the book review. 
The teacher indicates a question, or series of questions, by num- 
ber, and the pupil understands that his review is to answer these 
questions. There are directions for both teacher and pupil. On 
the back cover is a list of books for home reading. 

15 



